In the Aftermath
by Michelle-Ann85
Summary: Following the end of the Blight, it isn't just the Kingdom that needs healing from Aedan Cousland's brutal campaign against the darkspawn, but the hearts and souls of his victims, particularly that of his older sister, Elissa Cousland. After being held captive for year, she finds a way to mend her broken honour and shattered dreams.
1. In the Aftermath

Asking Aedan Cousland what reward he wanted for his part in saving Ferelden infuriated King Alistair of Ferelden no end. Given the opportunity, the murdering bastard would have gotten the same fate that Aedan had once planned for Alistair – swinging from the gallows as a traitor to Ferelden. The Cousland lordling had planned to execute Alistair so that he had a clear path to the throne by marrying Anora, but the surviving Theirin scion had other plans, and for the first time in his life, Alistair had taken his destiny into his own hands and accepted the position his blood demanded of him.

However, regardless of what plans Aedan had once had against him, Alistair could not execute the man who had made saving Ferelden possible. For it had been his methods, no matter how distasteful and violent, that had made killing the Archdemon possible and therefore, he had to make the offer of reward no matter how badly it sat with him. Still, he had one card up his sleeve that his Warden Brother didn't know about.

Aedan smiled viciously at Alistair; he might have had the throne ripped from him, but there were other ways to skin a rabbit and if he couldn't have the throne directly, well, there were other ways to gain power in his backwater kingdom. 'I want money, and position in you court, Your Majesty.'

The King smiled pleasantly, having been perfecting his court smile for just such an occasion. 'Then you shall have Gwaren, and a reward of ten thousand gold,' he announced without hesitation.

He had already guessed what the Cousland lordling was going to ask for and so, earlier in the morning he had decided to let him have it in the form a small part of the country where he could do little harm. Gwaren had been one of the worse hit areas of Ferelden due to the fact that the darkspawn had poured out of the entrance near the town that had once been an Dwarven outpost. The darkspawn had decimated the area and any possibilities of the area becoming re-inhabitable were remote, at least in Aedan Cousland's life time.

'Traditionally, Your Majesty, the Cousland's hold the lands of Highever,' replied Aedan politely as he glared at the King as if he were a moron. 'I should very much prefer to return to my home.'

Again Alistair smiled his perfected court smile and inclined his head towards the crowd were Fergus Cousland stood, dressed in the formal finery of the Teyrns of Highever. 'I am sure you can, as the guest of your brother.'

Hatred flared to life in Aedan's face as he glowered at Alistair before turning his gaze on his older, supposed to have been dead, brother. As early as last night, Alistair had feared he would have to hand over Highever to Aedan, but then, like a miracle, the Maker had revealed Fergus Cousland awaiting an urgent audience late in the night. At first, he could not believe that the older brother of Aedan was alive, for Ostagar had been a total loss bar Loghain's retreating force and then, when he had gotten his head around the fact there were other survivors, Alistair had been weary of an audience given what he knew of Aedan, but it soon became clear that the two brothers were thankfully, nothing alike.

Aedan forced himself to smile, although no one was convinced by its sincerity. 'Fergus,' he said inclining his head to the Teyrn of Highever. 'It is good to see you alive.'

-…-

'Your Majesty, if I might be so bold,' ventured Arl Eamon once he, Alistair and Fergus Cousland were safely ensconced in the King's study away from the on-going celebrations that were currently filling the palace with joyful music and cheerful voices as the relief really started to settle in that they were safe. 'But do you honestly think it wise to give Aedan Cousland the Teyrnir of Gwaren? He isn't exactly stable.' The elder statesman cast an apologetic sideward glance at the new Teyrn of Highever. 'I mean no disrespect to your bother, Your Grace, but his actions in the Blight are more than questionable.'

Fergus smiled grimly, waving off the apology. 'No offense taken, my Lord, you assessment of my brother appears to be quiet generous if half of what I hear is true,' he shot a look at Alistair who hung his head.

'I fear it most likely is,' admitted the young King.

The Teyrn sighed heavily. 'What the Maker was thinking when He saved him instead of Elissa is quiet beyond me.'

Alistair frowned at the reference Fergus made about the middle Cousland sibling. Not once, during the entire Blight had Aedan mentioned his older sister. Yet Fergus Cousland had mentioned her on more than one occasion, lamenting her loss as deeply as the rest of his family. Aedan hadn't really seemed to mourn his family that Alistair had noticed, distracted as he was by the so-called exotic Morrigan, not that Alistair had seen the appeals; his idea of a beautiful was not some scrawny swamp witch who was a bitch.

Despite himself, Alistair had asked Fergus about this sister and why Aedan wouldn't hadn't mentioned her and Fergus had laughed bitterly, informing him that Aedan hated his older sister.

'She was the favourite,' he explained during his audience the night before, 'the Rose of Highever everyone called her and Aedan, well, he couldn't see anything bar being in the shadow of the pair of us really. It's a shame because had he looked, he'd have seen a great deal of paths open to him that neither of us had.'

But she, like her parents, her sister-in-law, nephew and rest of the household had been slaughtered during Howe's attack on the castle as the Blight was beginning. It was a needless slaughter on a powerful well-respected family, but at least they still had Fergus to uphold the family honour.

'I can't not reward him,' said Alistair, rubbing his temples. 'Regardless of how he did it, his actions paved the way to preventing a Thedas wide Blight.' He sighed. 'Whatever we think of his actions, the people will remember him as a Hero for his part in all this.'

Although, in the long run, Alistair was hopeful the Cousland lordling would show his true colours so that he might be ousted. He had learnt to play the long game when it came to his Warden Brother and there was also a matter of concern he wished to get to the bottom of that required keeping Aedan close until the Warden's interest in them waned. For Alistair was quite certain that Aedan had been indirectly involved in his survival atop of Fort Drakon and while being blissfully unaware as to the reasons why he had survived so far as the Wardens were concerned, Alistair could not let it slide. Riordan had been quiet clear that the Grey Warden who took the killing strike would die, and as Alistair had face down the crippled Archdemon, he had been sure he was going to death to commit his first and last act as King, only he hadn't died. He had woken up a few days later in wide bed with Eamon hovering nearby in a state of agitation. Alistair had his suspicious though, and they included the Swamp Witch.

So for now, he would play the game, as it where, a let Aedan have his moment and some reward for his 'brave actions' in mobilising Ferelden to defeat the darkspawn, but time would come when the façade would fall and when it did, Alistair would be waiting with a dagger to drive home into his heart.

'There is still the matter of Anora,' said Eamon, changing the subject as the matter on Aedan was now closed.

Alistair nodded his head thoughtfully. The situation regarding Anora had been on his mind since he had watched her be taken away at the Landsmeet, the former Queen pulling herself out of the guards hold as she exclaimed that she could walk herself to her new prison. Had she not been so quick to ally against him, then perhaps she would have been the best choice for his wife, but she had shown her true colours by consenting to marrying Aedan and proving she would do anything for power. She was a danger to his hold on the throne, particularly with Aedan strutting about like a pompus peacock. It would not do to have them both being able to get their heads together.

'She was planning to have me executed had she won the throne as she saw me as a threat,' he said heavily, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. 'I believe she represents the same threat to me, particularly as she was willing to ally herself Aedan to strengthen her claim.' He closed his eyes, sighing, not wanted to say this, but knowing he had to. 'I will have to call for her execution,' he said regretfully.

'Is that necessary?' asked Fergus, shifting in his seat to sit a little straighter.

'I wish it were not so,' said Alistair, 'but already there are voices stirring that she is the rightful Queen and that my claim is nothing more than a coup to give Eamon more power, thus they are looking to Anora and Aedan as a viable solution.' He sighed. 'I took the throne to unite Ferelden, not just for the Blight but to rebuild it after and I don't believe Anora and Aedan have Ferelden's best interests at heart.' He nodded solemnly. 'It is my final decision.'

Arl Eamon stood and bowed. 'As you wish, Your Majesty, it shall be done.'


	2. A Rescued Soul

Small, bony hands clung to the edges of the thin blanket that she had been given by the guard who had found her after raiding a bandit camp just outside Denerim. It wasn't truly enough to keep her warm, but it was better than her torn and ragged clothes that hung off her emaciated frame. Thin, pale and afraid, she scurried close to the guard who had taken pity on her during a raid on the camp, recognising her as a captive as opposed to a criminal when he found her hidden away and backed into the corner of a caravan. She had been wary at first, when the guard had told her everything would be okay, for how could anything ever be okay again, but she had allowed the man to give her food and water and lead her back to safety. Although how she would be safe in the very city that was now occupied by men who had committed acts of mass murder, Elissa Cousland did not know.

The captain of the King's Guard, the company of men who had actually been involved with the raid, looked at her critically. Frowning deeply, he took in her thin, ill features, her skin drawn back from malnutrition and covered in the fading remains of bruises from the beatings her kidnappers had given her. The brutal group of men had often assaulted her during her lengthy captivity.

'The King's orders were quite clear,' stated Captain Daniels, 'everyone was to be rounded up and executed in the town square.'

Elissa could not help but think that such a sentence would give her the release she sought from the pain she felt. There was nothing left for her in this world. Everyone she cared about had passed into the Fade thanks to Rendon Howe. All that remained was her and a brother she never wanted to set eyes on again. At least at the Maker's side she could find happiness with her mother and father and her dearly beloved older brother. They had all gone and left her in this place where she could find no salvation.

'But ser,' pressed the guard, 'she is no bandit, look at her, she was their captive. You can't very well hang her and it turn out she was innocent.'

Daniels looked at her, unable to deny the assessment. He shook his head, whether at the persistence of the guard, or at her state, Elissa could not say, and opened the door to his office. Daniels called one of the men forward and a few whispered words were exchanged before the young recruit saluted to his superior and marched off.

The Captain looked at her once again, and she kept her eyes averted, looking down at her feet. 'Get her some food.'

Elissa learnt within the hour that Daniels had requested an audience with the new King to discuss the development of finding a captive and in return she had now been summoned to her own audience so that he might hear her case for himself. The guard who had saved her, now escorting her to the palace proper, explained to her that the new king, King Alistair, was the hitherto unknown second son of Maric the Saviour, born to a maid who had worked in Redcliffe Castle. The story went that he had travelled with the Hero of Ferelden and had saved the Kingdom at great cost.

They paused in the courtyard, and the young man pointed out Aedan Cousland, their illustrious and glittering hero as he postured in the courtyard. For the first time in over a year, Elissa really felt something as she watched her younger brother parade himself as he walked up the stairs to the palace. She had heard the rumours at the camp as they moved around, new news from each town the bandits preyed upon – Conner Guerrin was dead, an entire clan of Dalish elves massacred and the Circle of Magi annulled and for what? Elissa did not know, but surely nothing could warrant half the events that had transpired during the admittedly short Blight.

'He's a bit full of himself, isn't he?' the guard asked her when the door swung shut, hiding the youngest of the Cousland siblings from view.

Elissa nodded, steeling herself for her audience, and praying that the King of Ferelden hadn't summoned his Warden Brother to assist in dealing with her story.

However, she need not have been so afraid as she was led, bare foot, in rags and clinging to her blanket for warmth, to a warm receiving room with a roaring fire as opposed to the cold Throne Room where any other King might have conducted such an audience. She briefly glanced at the King, noting that he was young, about the same age that Cailan had been when he assumed the throne, and that there was no denying the Theirin heritage as he greatly favoured Maric perhaps even a little more so than Cailan had done. He was tall too, with broad shoulders and warm eyes that did not seem to match someone who had been party to such terrible atrocities that were tantamount to multiple genocides.

'I doubt you'll get much out of her, Your Majesty,' said Daniel, 'Tomlin's been with her most part of the week and she's hardly said a word, bar to thank us.'

Alistair nodded, dismissing the man before gesturing for Elissa to sit, which she did so tentatively on the edge of a deep, plump armchair. She glanced back at the piece of furniture wondering how nice it would be to fall back into it and experience comfort just once more.

'Why did they keep you captive?' asked King Alistair, looking at her with great compassion.

Elissa toyed with her answer, unsure what to really say, but no one would believe that men had taken a random girl and held them captive. 'Because I am the daughter of a noble man, Your Majesty. They had hoped to ransom me for gold.'

She swallowed as the King nodded his head slowly. Just listening to her own voice, cracked and broken in comparison to what it had once been, brought the ever present pricks of tears closer to spilling over.

'And your father did not pay up I take it?'

She shook her head, trying to gain a little composure. 'My family is dead, betrayed by our friends and family,' she answered, her voice wavering as she remembered the series of events that led up to that fateful day.

She knew what Aedan had done. Although she had not recognised the extent of their plot, she had seen the glances exchanged by Aedan and Howe as they plotted. She had foolishly assumed that Howe was planning to claim Highever by way of a marriage between Aedan and Delilah Howe, and eventually rid themselves of Fergus and herself once their parents had died leaving Aedan as the Teyrn.

However, it seemed that Aedan was not opposed to parricide to get what he wanted. But Aedan had not counted on the Grey Warden who had conscripted him, forcing him away from Highever and into the ranks at Ostagar. Just a shame he had not died there with the other Wardens. She fingered the edge of her blanket revealing a glint of silver from her family ring, the only thing that hadn't been stripped from her. She had hidden it amongst the folds of her dress determined, at first, to use it as a token to help obtain freedom but that time never came.

The King noticed it, his hand shooting out to grab hers and examining the crest. 'That's the laurel of Highever.'

Elissa snatched back her hand, shuffling away from him on her seat. 'I'm not worthy of the name,' she said in a shaky voice, pulling the blanket around her more thoroughly so as to hide herself from him. 'I'm not a Cousland anymore.'

They were the words she had been telling herself every night as the men at the camp leered at her, their fetid breath choking her and their rough hands groping her and using her body for their personal use nearly every night until she was stripped of everything she once was. The only thing she could be grateful of was that none of their seed had quickened in her belly.

The King was looking at her now, really looking at her, his expression transforming to one of absolute horror. 'By the Maker,' he whispered, his tone shaken as he gazed at her. Then he turned and walked to the door, summoning a guard. 'Has the Teyrn of Highever left? Find him, now,' he ordered.

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'No.' Elissa surged to her feet, pushing herself out of the chair as some of the Cousland fire burst to life. She drew herself to her full height and met his eye, although it seemed insignificant as she barely reached the shoulder of the King. 'Aedan is a monster.'

He placed his hands on her shoulders and carefully guided her back down into her chair. 'Your older brother, Fergus, is alive, Lady Cousland.'

Elissa barely noticed being sat down as she looked at those warm, sympathetic eyes, and then she registered which one of her brothers he had mentioned. 'Fergus?' she replied, slightly dazed. 'Fergus is alive?'

King Alistair nodded as he stepped away from her. 'That he is. He's spoken of you often.'

Elissa felt her breath catching, swallowing hard against the rising emotion coming from her very soul. He was supposed to be dead. Everyone who had fought at Ostagar had died. She bowed her head, her hands going into her hair and a single tear rolled down her face, before she broke into heart wracked sobs.

How long she cried, she did not know, all she knew was that King Alistair did not leave. He sat opposite her, not speaking, not doing anything other than waiting until the door opened once more and another man was ushered in. Only then, did Elissa look up.

He looked tired, haunted by his own experiences, but still very much alive. The two men didn't even speak, the King simply nodded his head in her direction before seeming to melt away through a concealed door beside the fireplace. She might not have noticed, but there was something she could not put her finger on it about Alistair Theirin. However, it could all wait until another day, nothing bar the man in front of her now mattered.

Just seeing her big, wonderful, occasionally brash older brother was the biggest balm to her wrecked soul. She stood up, looking at him, his expression wary as he took in her withdrawn features, her face no doubt a pale shadow of the woman he would have remembered, healthy and alive in Highever. He didn't speak as he seemed to piece her together and then the world tilted, cracked and shattered as he wrapped his arms around her.

Everything about him was so familiar; the feel of the brocade on her cheeks, the strength in his arms as he hugged her tightly, the depth of his voice. She cried uncontrollably, thinking of their respective paths to this moment, and wondering how she would ever tell him of her trials, of the night lying there with tears pouring down her cheeks as she was deflowered, robbed of her virtue and her honour.

He guided her from the King's receiving room back to more familiar territory of the Cousland apartment within the Palace complex where the family used to stay on their frequent trips to Denerim. Once settled amongst the familiarity of a place she knew well enough to call at least a second home, Elissa felt the flood gates open and everything ushered forth. Fergus cried with her as she spoke of the devastating attack on their home, finding Oriana and Oren dead, and then her terrible year in captivity.

When she told him of her ordeal, of the nights where her honour was ripped from her and thrown in tatters at her feet, Fergus swore blood vengeance. However, Elissa was able to mollify him when she pointed out that most of the men had died in the raid and those who did not would perish by the hangman's noose with the rising of the next sun. Regardless, Fergus vowed that the King would hear of what had happened to ensure that no last minute reprieve could be given if they were to repent their crimes.

Though not keen to have her debasement lain bare before the King, she understood why Fergus felt it necessary and why King Alistair needed to know the full extent of their crimes against her. She did not know whether she could have coped knowing they were still alive, haunting her daylight hours as surely as they haunted the night ones.

Tired, the recounting of her torment seeping what little energy she had in the first place, Elissa slumped into the chaise longue thinking that sleep would be nice and as she began to drift off, a maid arrived, a young elven woman who curtseyed to her.

'My Lady, there is a bath awaiting you.'

Elissa dismissed the woman as she undressed, her back to the mirror so she did not have to look at the marks that covered her body. She stepped into the hottest water she had encountered for bathing in over a year and slid down into the scented water allowing it to seep into her very bones. The warmth eased a years' worth of knots and strains that had built up all over her body as she relaxed. Then she washed her hair as best she could, but it was a tangled and matted mess, unlikely to be salvaged after all this time.

The maid, Rhia, reappeared and began working through the tangled mess of hair, carefully cutting off several inches leaving it so it only brushed her shoulders.

'It will grow back, My Lady,' said Rhia reassuringly as she turned down the bed covers while Elissa looked at the mirror sadly examining her hair. 'You should get some rest.'

Elissa supposed she was right, but she missed the long soft curls that came with the longer length. She nodded. 'Thank you,' she said. 'Will I see you again?'

Rhia curtseyed. 'I've been assigned to your care for the duration of your stay, if it pleases you.'

'Yes, thank you,' said Elissa as she climbed into the bed.

The bed was the softest bed she had ever slept in with heavy covers that rested a pleasant weight on her. She buried her head in the pillow and for the first time in over a year, as Rhia blew out the lights, Elissa dropped off to sleep without fear.

-…-

Her eyes flickered open, her body cold, shaking and sweaty from the nightmares of men looming over her, reaching out, touching, feeling, taking. Elissa sat bolt upright, confused to find herself not being subject to some form of violation. It had happened so often, that she would dream and then wake up in the nightmare she had hoped she had just left behind. She rubbed her forehead trying to make sense of this, not remembering where she was. It was almost like Highever, but not quite. Elissa tried to untangle her jumbled memories and finally recalled that she was in Denerim Palace. Her audience with the King and being reunited with her brother coming to the forefront of her mind. She pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes and blinked against them reminding herself that she was safe, no one could harm her here and that she was where she belonged.

She was also hungry.

After her bath she had curled up under the sheets and fallen asleep and no one had woken her for supper. Elissa supposed her brother was just letting her sleep, and Maker did she need it, so she could not fault him. However, she was just as hungry as she was tired, so she pushed the heavy covers back and swung her legs over the edge of the bed in her slippers before pulling a shawl around her shoulders.

The kitchens, she remembered, were in the basement under the Great Hall, and as she reached the bottom of the steps she saw a light on. That was surprising for such a late hour and she hesitated before creeping down the last few steps to peer through the crack in the door to see whom was in there.

Raiding the larder, with all the enthusiasm of a young boy was the King of Ferelden. Elissa watched as he rummaged through the shelves and occasionally added something to the already overflowing plate on the table. Elissa cocked her head to get a better look at the enigmatic man that she had fully expected to be a monster. His kind, compassionate and warm demeanour towards her earlier in the day had been something of a shock. She could not reconcile what she had seen in her brief audience to the man who had let Aedan commit terrible atrocities. Elissa turned to leave, but as she did, the King must have turned and looked at the same time and seen her shadow.

'Who's there?'

Elissa froze on the spot. She could have run but instead she turned something in her wanting to know more about this King, particularly as he currently sounded like a boy who had just been caught doing something mischievous by his mother. He was the King for Maker's sake, who did he have to answer to really? She pushed the door open slowly to look at the man who had executed Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir and won right to rule the country looking like a naughty boy. Again, it was the complete opposite of everything she had expected.

His eyes flickered over her clean face and shorter hair, not quite recognising her, making her realise just what a state she must have been in when she had been brought before him. Then it clicked into place and King Alistair's eyes went wide making her blush a little. She looked down at the floor to disguise the growing red of her cheeks.

He invited her in, beckoning her with a smile and as she took a seat at the table he asked her if he could get her anything. Elissa glanced at the platter of food he had been putting together, it was large enough to feed two grown men and there was little doubt he had already eaten. It wouldn't be like the Palace staff to actually let their King starve. There was cheese, meat, fruit, some bread and he offered the same to her. Elissa nodded eagerly, her tummy jumping at the through of real food, not tasteless gruel.

As she watched him move around the kitchen, clearly well acquainted with where the cook kept everything, she was hard pressed to see King Cailan do such a thing. She doubted the late monarch had ever lifted a finger in that regard, but she was quickly noticing that Alistair Theirin wasn't really the traditional sort of King who was happy to sit back and let servants do all the work, as his raiding of the kitchen suggested. Watching him act like a normal person when he was in fact, the most important man in all of Ferelden put her guard down, and she surprised herself when she spoke as she nibbled on a hunk of bread covered in butter.

'Why did you let Aedan do all those terrible things?'

Alistair paused mid-action before turning to look at her. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging the ends so that the front stood up in all sorts of different directions. 'I didn't know how to stop him.'

'But,' she said, slightly confused, 'you're the King.'

'I wasn't until the end of the Blight,' he said sighing, looking down at his hands where he twisted his signet ring. 'It wasn't something I wanted, but if your brother had his way, I would have been swinging from the gallows and he'd have been upstairs bedding Anora in victory.'

'So this was survival?' she asked him, slowly tearing off some more bread and thickly spreading butter over it.

Alistair rubbed his forehead. 'That, and I actually want to try to make up for what Aedan did.'

Elissa paused mid action before then looked down at her lap, utterly surprised at his response. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, I should go,' she said moving to get up and leave him be.

'You don't have to,' he said. 'You have every right to question me and what I let him do. Given half the chance he would be waiting at the block next to Anora tomorrow.'

She looked up to see he had jammed his hands in the pockets of his breeches looking at his feet. 'Sorry,' she repeated, knowing she should have held her tongue.

Alistair waved off her apology. 'I should have stopped him. The problem was, our allies, they followed him. After Ostagar, I was too lost in my own grief to realise what I was doing when I said he should make the decisions.' He turned around and picked up a bottle of wine. He poured a glass for her, then himself. 'I wasn't brought up to this, you know, I was a Templar before I became a Grey Warden and before that I grew up in Arl Eamon's stables as nothing more than a commoner who had always been told that I was in no way in line for the throne. After everyone died at Ostagar, there was your brother, raised as a noble, knew about leadership while I had spent my life as the hidden bastard of Maric and I assumed…' He broke off, shaking his head sadly. 'I don't know what I assumed but I learnt some terrible lessons watching him and I knew I had to find a way to make it right.'

Elissa digested the information, surprised he had so freely told her so much of himself. She ate her bread in silence as she thought of her brother's betrayal in Highever. If she told Alistair would he even be able to act on it? Aedan, for better or worse, was a Hero to the people of Ferelden at the moment and he had managed to stop the Blight. Perhaps it was a battle for another day, so she changed the subject.

'Why are you doing down here, anyway?'

He looked up at her. 'Have you ever heard the phrase 'if you want something done right, do it yourself'?' he asked her and she nodded. 'Well, the servants have terrible taste in cheese.'

Elissa smiled and then she laughed. It was the first merry sound to erupt from her lips in months, before going back to her supper.


	3. A Shattered Glimmer

He was a perfect gentleman, clearing away the mess they had made during their midnight feast as if it was a perfectly normal thing for a King to do. They had not spoken much, but Elissa found that she did not mind his silent, largely unassuming presence as they ate. It was nice not to be alone, and strangely, she found she didn't worry about what would happen to her in his company. She instinctively knew that he would not lay a single finger on her.

Once done and the kitchen tidied again, King Alistair walked her back to her rooms, offering his arm which she nervously but politely declined. He bade her goodnight, bowing to her as he wished her a good night, leaving her more confused than ever about the man who was now their King. Why couldn't he be straight forward and comply with her expectations of him? Why couldn't he be more like the frivolous and careless Cailan; a man who was charming but not really likeable.

It was not the last time their paths crossed over the next few months. A strange habit had started developing whereby she actively sought his company by joining him in the kitchens for other midnight raids during which they found several delights that the cook had attempted to keep hidden from her late night thieves.

'My old nan would have flayed us alive if we had dared to set foot in the kitchen,' Elissa remarked to him as they dug into a particularly delicious tart one night. 'She didn't stand on ceremony.'

Word was that the cook knew of the break in's, just not who was orchestrating them and no one was going to rat out the King of Ferelden to an angry red cheeked cook. So they were free to continue their feasts in peace. Elissa discovered much to her delight that the cook made a wicked apple tart that just melted in her mouth. She commented to Alistair that it was the best she had ever tasted and in turn, he frequently requested the dish for her from the kitchens. Their little routine continued to develop to the point that by the time she joined him, he had already laid out their favourite foods which they ate with gusto. In some ways, it was just like being a carefree child again and doing things that weren't really expected of each other.

As winter gave way to spring, Elissa became subdued again, and Alistair immediately noticed the change. He had thought he was getting to the point when she was just starting to relax around him. She joked easily with him and joined in with his playful banter. In truth, when they were together, he laughed quite a lot. However, it didn't take a genius to work out what played on the mind of the Lady of Highever.

Fergus was planning to return to Highever and Elissa did not want to revisit the horrors that place brought her. So, Alistair took the initiative and offered Elissa her own apartments in the Palace so that she might remain in Denerim, far away from the home that troubled her mind. Fergus had been surprised at the offer when Alistair had put it on the table. He questioned Alistair's intentions towards his sister, as usually, such an offer would be given to a woman who was to be installed as a formal mistress. Alistair had been surprised at the accusation, and had assured the older man that the offer was on the table because it was quite clear that Elissa did not wish to return to Highever after everything she had suffered.

Satisfied of the King's intention, Fergus's only conditions were that Highever paid her allowance and that Rhia remained in her service as her maid and chaperone for the duration of her stay.

When Elissa was called to a formal audience to hear the proposal, she arrived looking a little bit nervous. She curtseyed demurely before sitting, clasping her hands as she looked from one man to the other, unsure as to what this was all about. She could hardly believe her ears when Alistair laid forth his offer for her. He was offering one of the larger apartments in the same wing that he occupied; the rooms were on the same floor as his so that there would be plenty of protection readily available in the form of the King's Own and her bedroom would look out on to the gardens, although it wasn't in much of a state to be enjoyed at the moment. She stared openly at the two men, wanting to question why but eternally relieved that she didn't have to face Highever just yet.

Alistair couldn't help but notice the way his heart beat as he waited for her answer; did he really want her to stay that much?

The truth was, yes, he did. He liked her laughter and smile. She was good company and one of the few women in the damn Palace that didn't play up to him, seeking his attentions because he was King. Well, at least he hoped it wasn't just because he was King and that she enjoyed his company as much as he did hers. Her response, because she seemed utterly gobsmacked at the offer was a nod and Alistair let go of a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Elissa would be remaining and for reasons he was only just beginning to understand, he was overwhelmingly happy about that.

The matter resolved, in the spring and summer months of the thirty-first year of the Dragon Age, Elissa Cousland put on weight again. The sharp angles of her face and body became curved again and while she knew it was likely that she would always look as if she had been ravaged by illness for a long time to come, she grew a little more confident of herself. She began wearing more stylish dresses and eventually, her hair grew long again, her ebony locks twisting into the loose waves she had worn before the sack of Highever. As time went on, she ventured further and further from her rooms in the company of Rhia.

Often she wandered among the gardens, pondering what to do about them. They had become barren in the Blight, the darkspawn taint had killed everything in the few days they had occupied the city. The gardens were the least of the King's concerns when it came to the rebuilding, but Elissa needed to do something to occupy herself particularly as everyone else seemed to be doing their bit in aiding the recovery from the Blight. As she couldn't haul bricks around, she began turning the soil in the abandoned flower beds that had once been a sea of colour. Donning loose breeches and a shirt, she tied her hair back and went to work with a gardening fork. She used to work with the groundskeeper at Highever, the elven man used to tell her that the key to gardening was the balance of patience and dedication. She certainly had the time to dedicate and it was better than sitting in her rooms doing nothing while the rest of the world toiled away at saving what remained of Ferelden.

Elissa did not know for how long she worked on the day she had made her decision, she kept thinking about going and getting a drink in the growing heat, but the minutes ticked back without her going inside. The labour was good exercise for her, and she pushed the fork into the ground with all her might releasing some of the tension that still lingered in her body after her ordeal.

She only stopped when a tall, broad shadow fell over her. She was on her hands and knees digging out an old dormant root, but the moment he arrived, Elissa sat back on her heels and looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. Smiling down at her was the King of Ferelden, his grin both charming and boyish as he took her in. She wondered what he must think of her in baggy clothes, her hair tied back and mud streaked across her face.

'You've been out here for hours,' he remarked.

She made to stand up, and Alistair held out his hand for her despite the fact she was covered in grime, so he obviously didn't mind her current state that much. 'I hope you don't mind, I meant to ask,' she replied, letting go of his hand the moment she was on her feet and brushing herself off. 'I just wanted to do… something.'

'It's fine, thank you,' Alistair said looking back along the garden at several feet of overturned soil. 'I only came down because you've been down here for hours without eating or drinking.'

He stepped aside to reveal a platter with bread and meat, a small bottle and a single glass. Knowing him a little better now, she knew he had gotten it himself and brought it out, much to the dismay of his servants. She ran the back of her hand over her forehead, pushing the hair from her eyes and tucking the stray strands back behind her ears.

'Thank you,' she said smiling at him as she walked over to sit down on the bench where the platter had been left. 'Did you want to join me?' she asked.

She had learnt in the last few months that he had one hell of an appetite. Some backlash of being a Grey Warden he had told her, but more than that, he would not say. He declined saying he really had to get back to one thing or another, but he didn't sound all that convincing. He was easily persuaded when she pointed out that he wouldn't have put a particularly ripe piece of Jadar Blue, a cheese he knew she did not eat, on the platter had he not been intending to stay for at least a moment. She smiled wryly at him as she offered the cheese to him. Alistair laughed as he joined her on the bench.

So they sat together, the platter between them picking at bits of cheese and meat while she told him of her plans for the gardens that faced both their apartments. As they drank the mead, she from her goblet and him swigging directly from the bottle, which made her giggle a little bit as she playful chastised his manners, she told him that the gardens would not have any colour this year. However, if she worked hard then next year she hoped for a sea of colour. He smiled broadly as he listened to her, an expression in his eyes that she was unable to place and when they had finished the platter and mead he told her to let him know whenever she needed something and he would find it for her.

Elissa watched him, his stance easy as he strolled out of the garden with his hands in his pockets, and as she did so, a warm glow suffused her. She smiled sadly and shook her head as she went back to work, slamming the fork into the ground with even more force than might have been necessary.

-…-

'I am not giving Aedan Cousland the position of Warden Commander in Ferelden,' Alistair stated very plainly to Elyon Andras, the senior Warden in the contingent of Orlesian Wardens sent to help rebuild the order in Ferelden. He was an elf from a Dalish clan who had grown discontent with his lot and fled to the Wardens instead of the Alienage.

Andras waved the order from the First Warden. 'But it is not your decision, Your Majesty.'

'Well, it should be, given that it's an Arling in my country,' retorted Alistair angrily. 'It's bad enough that psychopath is a Teyrn, but an Arl as well? He'll be going the same way as Amaranthine's predecessor at this rate.'

Andras sighed. He was aware of the story, and of Aedan's part in slaughtering his kin. While it sat ill with him, the older Warden had made himself believe that it was a necessary evil in defeating the Blight. 'I understand your concern, but you should have considered this before you handed the lands of Amaranthine over to the Wardens to do with it what they will.'

Alistair chuckled darkly. 'I did consider it; I was expecting to be smoothing over the appointment of an Orlesian to the post, not having to put up with whatever Aedan Cousland thinks is necessary to defeat darkspawn.'

'I am sorry, Your Majesty, but as it is, this decision is out of your hands,' replied Andras, standing up. 'A good day to you.'

'Yes,' said Alistair in a dark, sardonic voice as Andras excused himself. 'Fantastic day.'

He had left his study to get some air when he collided with Elissa Cousland, as she hurried in from the sudden downpour of rain. It had clouded over very quickly, right about the time Elyon Andras had informed him of Aedan's appointment to Warden Commander and the heavens had opened drenching the city.

Elissa was soaked and shivering a little, dressed as she was in a thin shirt and breeches that matched the earlier bright sunshine. Her hair was matted to her face and her clothes were drenched and clinging to her all the soft lines of her body, a fact Alistair pointedly tried to ignore and focused on her face instead.

'I am so sorry,' she said through chattering teeth. 'I didn't see you, Your Majesty.'

He cocked his head at her and raised an eyebrow. He had finally gotten around to telling her that she should at least call him Alistair in private. He found it slightly disconcerting that nobody called by his given name any more and he was likely to forget it himself at this rate.

'Sorry, Alistair,' she amended with a sly smile that could almost be considered flirtatious if he had not known any better.

She always said his name slowly, as if she was testing her ability to say it. He supposed she had been brought up in a world where it was more natural to speak in titles than given names, but still, he didn't think everyone needed to call him 'Your Majesty'. Particularly not a woman who frequently joined him for midnight feasts in the kitchen and knew all his food vices.

'Maker's breath, you look freezing,' he said as he took in her pale face and blue lips. Her very pretty, but blue, lips. 'Here.' He shrugged out of the Orlesian style frock coat his valet had forced him into that morning and draped it over her shoulders.

'I'll wreck the material,' she said as she huddled into it, its warmth a blessing after suddenly being soaked.

Alistair chuckled. 'You say that as if it would be a downside. At least then Thomas won't be able to force me into it again.'

Elissa smiled. 'Thank you.'

'Why don't you get out of those and I'll bring you some brandy to warm you back up,' Alistair suggested. She couldn't help but smirk at his words, and as he realised what it was he had said, he too laughed. 'Once you are dressed again, of course.'

She curtsied and as he was about to protest, her eyes darted behind him, indicating that they were not currently alone. 'It will be an honour to join you for a glass, Your Majesty.'

She turned and left, and he couldn't help but watch her leave, noticing that she pulled the coat around her body more tightly and actually sniffed the collar. He watched her, puzzled as to her actions. Sometimes she held herself at such a distance to him, as if she was terrified. Then other times she would respond to his affection, like just then, and even openly flirt with him. He wished he understood what it all meant, her past was complicated, that he knew and there was no point in pushing anything. But Maker, seeing her stood there, huddled into his coat he had wanted to reach over and kiss her until her lips returned back to their usual red.

Elissa reappeared about half an hour later; her wet hair tied back and in a simple green gown. He had gotten himself back together by then, but he was still awestruck by her effortless beauty. She took the glass offered to her and a seat, taking a small sip of the Antivan spirit. 'What bee did you have in your bonnet earlier?' she asked once she had warmed up. He had looked outraged for just a moment before they collided, but upon seeing her, whatever had angered him had evaporated.

'Warden problems,' he said darkly, taking another sip of brandy. 'Specifically, the First Warden has named Aedan the Warden Commander of Ferelden.'

She went white, the same sickly shade she had been the first time he had seen her all those months ago. She set her glass down with a chink that sounded as though she was shaking, a lot. 'Can you not stop them?'

'Apparently not,' replied Alistair. 'The Wardens hold no allegiance to any King and that includes me.'

'But he's a monster,' she said in a whisper. 'Do they not realise?'

Alistair pressed his lips together forming a thin line. 'To them, he stopped a Blight and survived. It doesn't matter what he did, it's all deemed necessary.'

Elissa picked up her glass again and knocked back the rest of the drink. 'Your order doesn't sound all that honourable to me,' she said as the burn of the drink died away. 'If they deem two types of genocide necessary.'

He followed suit and knocked back his own drink. 'It has to be said, they aren't shaping up to be the glorious, honourable order I had envisaged either,' he said, picking up the bottle. 'Another?'

She nodded, holding out her glass.


	4. A Matter of Marriage

_More fluff, but sad fluff…_

'You can't hide from it forever, Alistair,' said Eamon sternly, as if he were talking to his wayward son as oppose to the King. 'You will have to marry, and soon.'

Alistair drummed his fingers on the desk. 'Yes, but every eligible bride in Ferelden is an insufferable air heads,' he replied.

He'd been introduced to every eligible girl in Ferelden and while they many were physically appealing, they seemed to lack a quality that made them suitable. He wanted someone he could talk to, laugh with and who didn't come with a father whispering in her ears. There was someone…

'You could consider Lady Cousland?' asked Eamon.

Alistair chanced a glance at Fergus Cousland, who had returned for the first full Landsmeet since Alistair had been declared King. The oldest of the Cousland siblings shrugged. 'I have no issue if she consents freely,' replied the Teryn of Highever.

But Alistair knew she would not. Fergus had told him of what happened to Elissa at the hands of the bandits who had held her captive after her escape from Highever and knew she considered herself beneath all.

Aedan Cousland chuckled darkly from his side of the room. 'She'll not marry him,' he sneered. 'Stubborn mule that she is won't see the benefits. Had she seen the benefits of marrying Howe then we might not have been ousted by his father.'

King Alistair glared at the Teryn of Gwaren. His hatred for Aedan seeped through Alistair, coursing through him and mixing with the taint in his blood. He wanted to take his sword and strike down that sorry excuse for a human. Aedan sensed the direction of his thoughts, and smirked at the King, knowing that Alistair would not strike.

Well, here was praying the Maker that a darkspawn skewered him in Amaranthine.

'Do you not have preparation to see to, Your Grace?' Alistair said, dismissing the Teryn of Gwaren.

He stood up, and bowed mockingly. 'Indeed I do.'

'A prize to the man who brings me his head,' muttered Alistair, earning himself a raised eyebrow from the Teryn of Highever. 'What? You can't tell me you aren't thinking it as well.'

-…-

'Seems the Arl of Redcliffe has plans for you big sister.'

Aedan's voice startled Elissa and she looked up at the man who had the dubious honour of calling her brother. She had not heard his approach, lost as she was in her task of planting bulbs that would flower for the spring months. With care and consideration, this particular garden would flower bright yellow in Cloudreach.

'He believes you are fit to be Queen and continue the royal line. I had wondered what you were doing here – sliding into the King's good graces and no doubt his bed.'

He was glaring at her, and no wonder. Aedan had his eye on the throne during the Blight, allying himself to Anora. Thank the Maker that Alistair had found the courage to step forward else they'd be all living under a tyrant and Aedan would have most likely executed her when the guards brought her to the city. She stood up to her full height, and though she knew she could never be Queen, she met Aedan's eye.

'His Majesty is an honourable gentleman who would not presume to treat a lady of my rank so discourteously,' she replied. 'Indeed, I do not think he would treat any woman with the disrespect you suggest.'

Aedan smirked. 'You like him. Perhaps this time you will see the benefits of a powerful union rather than choose some whelp from a lesser house.'

Elissa put her hands on her hips. 'Were it to be so, I would make sure you saw no benefit,' she replied.

Aedan laughed coldly. 'As if I need any help from you, or had you not noticed that I have both a Terynir and Arling while you have naught but a garden. Besides, if you were Queen you would be nothing but a puppet for Eamon to control.' He turned from Elissa striding away from her.

She stood there fuming, were it not for her fall from grace, she would allow Fergus to offer her eligibility as a bride to King Alistair. It wasn't an unattractive proposition, being married to the new King and had things been different… But they were not and there was little point in lamenting that fact.

Elissa furiously swiped at a tear sliding down her cheek. Why the Maker had seen fit to save the worse of the Cousland clan and give him greatness, she did not know. It seemed that bad things happened to good people. Bryce Cousland was a good person who had been betrayed by his own son's desire for power borne from the bitterness of being the youngest, deemed unremarkable besides his older brother who was heir to the Terynir and a sister who could have her pick of Thedas. He had certainly proved he was remarkable, but not the sort of remarkable that was good.

-…-

The idea was more appealing, Alistair decided as he watched Elissa Cousland taking a break from gardening and applying herself to needlework. She had taken shelter under a tree, pushing a needle in and out of material she had tightly bound over a hoop. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the idea of having her as a wife. Despite all she had been through, and Fergus had been quite specific on the details, she had grown and blossomed, becoming a beautiful woman who he enjoyed spending time with.

However, he sensed she would never agree. Yet, he would not know if he did not ask her. He chuckled to himself; how much things had changed. Six months ago he would never have even dreamt he would have to ask a woman to marry him, in fact a part of him was resigned to the fact that he might never know the delights of a woman. So, Alistair steeled himself and went to join her in the gardens, ordering his personal guards to remain out of sight. He sat down beside her and she only glanced at him with a flick of her eyes.

'Is this about Eamon's proposal?'

Maker, he was going to kill that bastard. 'It is.'

It seemed strange that such a great pit should open up in his stomach when he knew she would say no. 'I can't.'

'I thought as much.'

Elissa looked up at that, her needle came up and pierced her skin, drawing blood. She swore under her breath before pushing her finger in her mouth. She gave him a questioning look; a demand that he explain himself.

'Fergus told me of what happened to you,' he confessed quietly.

Her eyes went wide before she looked away. 'They you understand why I can't. I couldn't consummate a union and as such, I could not provide heirs. I would be of little use to you.'

'I am uncertain that I am able to provide heirs myself,' replied Alistair quietly. 'The taint, it's not impossible, but it isn't easy. The Theirin line will likely die with me.'

That news was concerning and just a little bit sad. 'You are certain there is nothing to be done?'

He shook his head. 'Like I say, it's not unheard of, but it is exceptionally rare.' He turned to look at her. 'Elissa, I need a wife who can be a Consort, not a just bed warmer and brood mare. If you did not want to, then we would not consummate the union until you are ready. I can think of no finer person to be my wife.'

'There are plenty fine girls in the Bannorn,' she said to him, though she knew it was not the case. She supposed he could look further afield. 'You would soon tire of a wife who you could not bed.'

As he still had yet to experience it, Alistair didn't think it would be hard waiting until she was ready. But there would be little point in pushing her.

Elissa hung her head. 'I'm sorry, Your Majesty.'

'You should not be,' he said. 'I knew your answer before I asked; I am just sorry you feel this way when I do not know of anyone more worthy.'

She glanced up and he noticed her eyes were over bright. 'Thank you, but I don't deserve such compliments.'


	5. Of Love's Touch

_Even more fluff, and beta'd by Darkly Tranquil this time. _

'Who is she?

Leliana's lilting voice made Alistair look up. He smiled at the red haired bard who had almost become his first lover. Had she not been a bard and he the son of King Maric then perhaps they could have had more than friends. Looking back on the decision now, he realised it represented the first time he had chosen to embrace his destiny as the heir to the throne, rather than remaining a Grey Warden. As sweet and apparently innocent as she appeared, Leliana was wise to the way of the world of nobles and stepped back from his life in that regard to protect him from the potential embarrassment of having to disentangle himself from an Orlesian lover. But she promised she would never truly leave him and as a testament to that she was stood in the doorway watching him upon her return from a preliminary investigating into the recovery of Andraste's Ashes.

'Well?' Leliana asked, joining him at the window and peering down to look at Elissa working in the gardens below. 'Oh, she's pretty.'

'That is Aedan Cousland's older sister,' said Alistair.

'Truly? He did not mention a sister,' said Leliana, her voice growing high with surprise. 'A brother, yes, but not a sister.'

Alistair turned away. 'No, he did not,' he said. 'But there she is, confirmed by Fergus Cousland.' He sat down at his desk and regarded his former companion. 'How did the expedition go?'

'The dragon remains nested and we lost several of our number,' she said dully. 'I somewhat feel as if it is some cruel joke laid on by Aedan. He knew people would want to find the Ashes so he made it impossible to get there.'

Alistair sighed heavily. 'At least he did not defile them,' he said.

'Only because you took that vial from him,' Leliana replied, her eyes glowed with fierce pride. 'I knew you were made of stronger stuff than he when you did that. How are you finding royal life?'

He held up a sheaf of documents. 'It's all requests, audiences and Eamon telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I told you he should have been made King and not me. He'll probably live longer, for starters.'

'Aye,' she agreed sadly, knowing of his shortened life span, 'but can you imagine Lady Isolde as Ferelden's Queen? The scandal of a true Orlesian born noble upon the Throne of Ferelden! At least my mother was from Ferelden despite my Orlesian upbringing.'

'Oh Leli,' he said softly, his lingering affection for her in his voice. 'This place would stifle you.'

'In any case, you seem to have your eye on another to sit beside you,' she said, a little too brightly, allowing the residual feelings she still carried for him to show in her voice.

'She said no,' Alistair replied, shifting a little uncomfortably at having to tell her. 'Not that I blame her, I did let her brother commit horrific atrocities to end the Blight. She must think me akin to a monster.'

'Oh Alistair, no one who has met you could think that,' she said sweetly. 'Give her a bit more time.'

-…-

Leliana remained as Alistair's guest in the palace for a few days, finally having the opportunity to meet Elissa when the introverted noblewoman accepted an invitation for dinner one evening. The bard immediately picked up on the woman's shyness and tried her best to distract her from whatever it was that ailed her with tales of their adventures during the Blight. Although she kept the conversation light, focusing her storytelling on the more humorous and whimsical episodes of their journey, after one glass of wine too many she inadvertently divulged Alistair's disastrous encounter with his half-sister. Mortified by her dreadful faux-pas, she swiftly diverted the conversation to a safer topic; however she could see from Alistair's expression that the damage was done.

Elissa remained for a nightcap after the loquacious bard had departed for the evening, accepting a generous measure of brandy in the King's private lounge. Taking the brandy glass in hand and swirling the amber coloured liquid, she observed him through the glass as he sat down, her appraisal effectively masked by her apparently interest in the drink in her hand.

'I didn't realise you had a half-sister,' she said.

He grimaced. 'It's not something I like to talk about. It wasn't a pleasant experience.'

'Well, we both know something of relatives we'd rather forget,' she said wryly.

Silence fell between them and she swallowed nervously, a little unsure of what to say or do. They had not spent any time alone since she had rejected his proposal, and although they had remained friendly when they encountered one another, she supposed she shouldn't have been disappointed that he stopped seeking her out. Although he had claimed to know she would reject him, it still couldn't have been easy to hear her say it. It had not been easy for her to say no.

'Can I ask you something?' she asked.

'Mmm?'

'Were you and her lovers? You seem very close.'

Alistair found himself momentarily thrown; he had not expected such forthrightness. Before he knew it, he found himself rubbing the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture of nervousness as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts 'Nearly, once,' he said. 'But she's, well she was, a bard and by then I knew Eamon wanted me to push to be king. So, we, er, didn't.'

'And you've not taken a lover since being on the throne, either?' she asked with genuine curiosity. Seeing his horrified expression, she elaborated, 'the servants are gossiping about it.'

'Right,' he replied, 'great.'

'They are used to King Cailan; he kept several women,' she explained as if it were of no real consequence.

'I am not my brother,' he said darkly.

Elissa held up her hands. 'I know,' she said. 'I'm sorry, I had no right to question you on your private life, I…' she shrugged.

'You what?'

'I don't know,' she admitted. She stood, suddenly acutely aware of the oddity of the situation; discussing with Alistair, the man who was dominating her waking and sleeping thoughts, who he was or was not bedding was not her place, not least because he was the King of Ferelden. 'I should…' but was interrupted by an urgent knock at the door.

'Come in,' Alistair called and a messenger presented himself.

The young man, tired from a long ride bowed to the King and inclined his head to acknowledge Elissa. 'Your Majesty, I must inform you that Amaranthine has been lost. The Warden-Commander gave the order to shut the gates and burn it following a darkspawn attack,' he explained as he handed Alistair a vellum scroll sealed with silver wax and embossed with the mark of the Grey Wardens.

The King paled in reaction to the shocking news, his hands shaking as he read the note, then he handed it to Elissa. 'By the Maker, all those people,' she whispered, sitting down on the edge of the chair.

The messenger was dismissed and the King returned to the counter and poured another measure of brandy, knocking it back in one gulp, grimacing the liquid slid down his throat. 'I'll kill him,' he said. 'I'll bloody kill the bastard with my own hands.'

Elissa got to her feet and placed a hand on his arm in an attempt to soothe his mounting anger 'Please,' she said quietly, 'calm down.'

'Calm? How can I be calm?! He left all those people to die! My people!' he snapped. 'How could he do this? It's not a Blight.' Turning from the liquor cabinet, he found himself staring into sky blue eyes, and for a moment he forgot completely what it was he was angry about. But then the thought of the terrible death Aedan had consigned the people of Amaranthine brought it all rushing back to the fore.

'I don't know,' she said, squeezing his hand and watching the rage churn in his usually soft eyes. His smouldering anger sent tremors of fear down her spine, but instead of quailing before it as she had in the past she raised her hand to stroke his cheek in a gentle, soothing gesture. 'Please, there is nothing that can be done now.'

'No,' he agreed, the rage cooling under her touch. Without conscious thought, he brought her hand to his lips, brushing them gently across her knuckles. 'I should go. I need to decide how to deal with this.'

Elissa stepped away from him, pulling her hand free, stroking the place where his lips had met her fingers, as though his touch had burned her. 'Of course,' she said.

With a grateful smile, he departed through another door that led deeper into the Royal inner sanctum, leaving Elissa standing there. She stood stock still for some time, trying to process the sudden and effortless intimacy she had just experienced, marvelling at the way a simple touch had so swiftly assuaged his anger. A shiver shot through her again, not from fear but because somehow, she felt as if she had been branded; a perfect torture as she knew she could ever act on the flood of feelings that washed over her.


	6. Words That Heal

_I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who is reading this. Who doesn't like a bit of fluff and healing in romance. _

The surviving Wardens of Ferelden, disgusted at the callous and unnecessary actions of their Commander, turned on Aedan shortly after the Battle of Amaranthine, declaring him unfit to lead. Taking advantage of the dissent in the ranks and his position as the Senior Warden of Ferelden, Alistair was able to strip Aedan of his position and with the support of the Landsmeet, take his holdings in Gwaren and banish him from the kingdom. Convincing the nobility of Aeden's depravity proved easy once Alistair had lain all of Aedan's diabolical deeds to the nobles of Ferelden, much of the testimony corroborated by those who had witnessed it first-hand. The victory did not come without cost however; he was forced to sit passively through some difficult questions regarding his own actions and considerable debate about his fitness to rule in light of the revelations. Yet King Alistair managed to convince them of his continual suitability and he finished up the bi-annual meeting of the nobles with both his head and throne intact.

Aedan reacted in typical fashion, unleashing a vitriolic tirade against everyone in the Landsmeet and denying all responsibility for the crimes levelled against him despite the overwhelming evidence against him. Before storming from the chamber, he vowed revenge, his angry gaze passing on the King and then his siblings, lingering specifically on Elissa . Concerned about the intentions of the disgraced Hero, Alistair set spies to watch Aeden, who, they reported, took ship for the Free Marches before vanishing into the shadowy underbelly of that lawless region. The thought of Aeden on the loose and out of sight worried Elissa greatly; there was no telling what her deranged brother might get up to. It was a fear shared by her remaining brother Fergus and the King.

But it was not all bad news from the northern city; Nathaniel Howe had led his fellow Wardens and guards from the Vigil into the city via a supposedly secret network of smugglers caves and led many survivors from the still burning city. In light of his heroic efforts in the ill-fated defence of his beloved Amaranthine, Howe was appointed to the post of Warden Commander until such time as the First Warden saw fit to appoint a replacement. As further reward, Teryn Cousland offered Nathaniel the deeds to a summer estate that had once been part of the Howe Holdings.

Life moved on from those dreadful days and preparations began to celebrate Alistair's first year as King and the defeat of the Archdemon. The celebrations were set to coincide with First Day and Elissa, as a high ranking noble as well as a guest of the Royal household, found herself subject to the terrifying attentions Denerim's finest dressmaker.

Unfortunately the woman was a needle wielding harridan and Elissa was grateful to escape her. She decided to look in on the preparations for the ball, but found the Great Hall empty of servants and containing a lone man, the King of all people, practicing dance steps. Elissa stepped inside and closed the door as quietly as she could behind her.

'You won't learn anything like that,' she said when she was a few paces into the room.

Alistair stopped abruptly and spun around, looking embarrassed. He pushed a hand through his hair, tangling it. He watched without comment as she moved further into the room. Things had been different since that night in his living room; she hadn't been able to stop thinking about what more they could have had if she were not so fearful of what a man could do to her. Yet almost in spite of herself, she had found herself opening up to him and was surprised to find that her fear of being physically near him had diminished noticeably. She discovered that she could actually abide his touch and not shy away as she did if any man other than Fergus approached her. In her interactions with the King, she had observed him to be a kind man who took things very personally and cared deeply about the well-being of his people. The thought brought her to wondering what it would be to give herself over to the gentle warrior before her and allow him to heal her wounded spirit.

'Did you want some help?' she asked.

'Well, so long as you don't tell anyone,' he replied in that self-deprecating manner that was so endearing.

She smiled as she continued across the room, stopping just in front of him. 'Our secret,' she said with a smile. 'You should just keep it simple. A basic three step waltz.' Elissa positioned one of his hands on her waist, her hand on his shoulder with their other hands clasping. 'Right, you know the basics?'

'That I can do,' he said, trying to ignore the fact he had Elissa Cousland in his arms.

'Lead on, Your Majesty,' she said with an encouraging smile.

Without the aid of music, the dance was disjointed, and more than once, he stood on her toes but she laughed it off, hitching the skirt of her dress up so she could see where her feet were. 'You are terrible at this,' she remarked ruefully as she watched his feet. 'Do they not teach you gentlemanly arts in the Chantry?'

'Why would they when we vow celibacy?' he asked before cursing himself for blurting that one out.

Elissa looked up. 'Oh,' she said, as if it explained everything. 'Do Warden's require the same vow?'

'I think your brother is proof they don't,' he said with a pointed look. 'I just don't take things like that lightly.'

She didn't either; she had been waiting for her wedding night but then her innocence had been stripped from her violently. 'I wanted to wait until my wedding day,' she admitted. 'But, well, you know what happened and…' She sighed, stepping away. 'I just don't know that I could ever be in the position where someone could abuse me like that again. So it's better if I don't.'

Alistair put his hands in his pockets. 'Elissa, if you agreed to be my wife, then I swear on all that I hold dear that I would never force you.'

Elissa looked up in surprise. 'Why are you so determined for me to be your wife?'

Because I've fallen in love with you, he thought to himself before offering up a more diplomatic answer over the truth; he doubted she was ready for that confession. 'Because you are a wonderful, compassionate woman who would make a fine Queen,' he replied. 'And you don't run screaming because I'm a bastard.'

'I've not seen any of the other women run screaming for your company… In fact, they actively seek your attentions,' she pointed out.

'Only because I'm King,' he said flatly. 'All the simpering is, well, sickening. Women with no interest in me, bar my title, and the name their children will bear.'

'I remember that feeling,' replied Elissa quietly, thinking of a time when men wooed her for title and name alone.

'Elissa,' he said softly, remaining where he was last he invade her personal space, wondering when he had worked out how to exhibit this sort of personal tact. 'I want someone I don't have to mind myself with, who I can speak my thoughts to without fear of offending and won't be held hostage by the power of their family.'

'Have you forgotten, I am a Cousland?'

'Your brother does not assume more than he has and Aedan is gone,' he pointed out. 'Besides, I doubt you would tolerate a controlling influence from your brothers.'

She shook her head.

'Will you at least think about it?' he asked her gently. 'Really think about it?'

'I shall,' she said, stepping back up to him. 'Come on, we can't have you making a fool of yourself at your own ball and you need a lot of work...'

-…-

Fergus looked up from his desk to see his sister leaning against the doorframe, silently observing him. There was a strange look in her eyes that would have been invisible to anyone who did not know her as well as he did; several conflicting emotions seemingly at war, with no particular one able to assert dominance over the others.

'You look so like Papa,' she said softly. 'For a moment, I could have been twelve years old again.'

He smiled sadly as he watched his sister sit down. 'Your dress maker was storming around looking for you; couldn't you have picked someone nicer?'

'Someone nicer would have forced me into silks and ribbons,' said Elissa as she smoothed her gown over her legs. 'Is there any news on…?'

Fergus shook his head. 'Besides, I'm sure you would hear any news before me,' he said wryly. She lifted her eyebrow and shrugged before she sighed. 'Something troubling you, sister?'

'Define trouble,' she replied.

'A certain someone who features in your life from time to time,' he replied.

Elissa narrowed her eyes at him, and Fergus smirked. 'Spying is very discourteous,' she told her brother sternly.

'It isn't if I have to think about doing the brotherly thing and defend your honour,' he said, his tone serious but there was a note of humour there.

'What honour?' she chuckled darkly under her breath. 'I have none left to defend.'

Fergus shook his head. 'You have plenty worth drawing sword over,' he replied. 'Now, why has our King got you all twisted up?'

'He has asked for my hand in marriage,' she said. 'Again.'

Her brother, the dashing Teryn of Highever, second most powerful man in Ferelden, looked at her in shock. 'Again?' he repeated incredulously. 'You turned him down once already?'

'You didn't know?' she asked him.

'I knew Arl Eamon suggested it,' said Fergus, sitting back in his chair to survey his sister. 'I didn't think the King was going to ask you. He was certain you'd reject him after all you had gone through.'

Elissa hung her head. 'How could Ferelden tolerate a Queen who has been so badly defiled?' she asked him sadly. 'I'm damaged goods and I might never give Ferelden an heir.'

Fergus frowned and leant forward. 'Did they do something more to you that you have never said?'

'I endured a year at their hands and not once did I quicken,' she told him, meeting his eyes. 'Besides, how could I ever consummate a marriage after all that?' She hung her head. 'I don't know if I could.'

'If you could, would you marry him?' asked Fergus quietly.

She bit her lip as she tried to capture all the thoughts that had been spiralling in her mind since the night they had learned of the fall of Amaranthine. The same thought always resurfaced to the forefront on her mind. She looked at her brother, meeting his gaze as steadily as she could 'I'd spend the rest of my life with him.'

'He's asked you twice?' Fergus repeated.

She nodded slowly. 'I'm the perfect candidate really,' she said hastily. 'Sister of the Teryn of Highever, currently the first lady of Ferelden, the only downside so far as anyone else can see is I'm also the sister of the disgraced Hero of Ferelden. There might be a few rumours that I was warming his bed and decided to make an honest woman of me for propriety's sake, but they can be easily disproved.'

'There is more to it than that, sister,' said Fergus. 'He's asked you twice. How many King's ask twice?'

Elissa shrugged. 'How many men ask more than once unless they are willing to walk to the Void and back for that woman?' she asked her brother. He gave her a very pointed look and she opened her mouth in surprise. 'No, oh no way. He's the King, and King's don't…'

'He isn't your traditional definition of a King though, is he?' said Fergus.

'That doesn't matter,' said Elissa, but she couldn't stop thinking about the way Alistair looked at her from time to time; that gentle gaze he gave her that she felt like she would melt into, and the feeling of his arms around her as glided around the ballroom just talking and smiling at one another. 'You don't think?'

Fergus nodded his head.

'But I'm Aedan's sister, and I spent a year in captivity being used by depraved men, I'm not worthy,' she said, panic rising in her chest. 'He can't.' She clapped a hand over her mouth. 'He knows I can't, I told him that I didn't know if we could ever be…'

'And yet he still asked you twice?'

Elissa nodded her head, and Fergus gave her such a warm smile before he reached over the desk and took her slender hand. 'Let go, Elissa,' he said quietly. 'You are not defiled, or lacking honour or unworthy. You are more worthy now of the Cousland name and anything else that might entail than ever before.' He squeezed her hand as tears sliding from her eyes over her cheeks. 'You'll never come to harm again and I will kill any man, even a King, if a finger was laid upon you without permission. What did you tell him this time?'

'That I shall think on it,' said Elissa.

'Then think on it carefully, sister,' he said. 'There are not many who get a second chance at life. Don't pass up on what you could have.'


	7. Edge of a Precipice

The evening of the ball arrived in a flurry of last minute activity, particularly among the young maidens who had assembled in the hope of snaring a husband – there were several very eligible bachelors on offer chief among them was King Alistair who, despite having more than his fair share of women vying for his attention, remained completely oblivious due to the fact that he had his eyes firmly fixed on one woman. After him there was Fergus Cousland, the widowed Teryn of Highever, who had made it very clear that he was still in mourning for his wife and son, followed by Teagan Guerrin who had been named the new Teryn of Gwaren thanks to his unswerving support throughout the Blight during his brother's illness and then in the first year of King Alistair's reign.

Most of the women did not leave their estates while the dressmakers sewed their clients into elaborate Orlesian style ball gowns and applied matching make up; there had been flourishing trade in brightly coloured cosmetics and other adornments in the run up to the ball. While the other noblewomen were primping and preening themselves for the coming festivities, Elissa donned loose breeches and a shirt, choosing to spend her morning appraising the progress of her garden. She gave particular attention to the health of the finicky evergreens that refuse to flourish to their full potential, and pruning dead leaves and twigs from her favoured rose bushes which she hoped would bloom into a sea of red, white and pinks when summer arrived. She only retired back to her chambers after the noon bell.

In spite of the pains she had suffered in its creation, Elissa had to admit that her dress was a thing of beauty; the deep blue velvet skimmed over her body before exploding outwards in a wide skirt, ending in a short train at the rear. The neckline was decorated with delicate embroidery of silver thread and gemstones that caught the light and glimmered delightfully. The sleeves were fitted to just above the elbow where the design decorating the neckline was repeated, while the rest of the sleeves were made of light, flowing material of a silvery grey colour that floated over her skin. While it was cut in favour of her delicately curved body, it was not revealing, designed to cover some of the scars that she would carry for the rest of her life in constant reminder of her year long ordeal.

Elissa twisted and turned looking at the mirror, trying to get a look at all angles. She could scarcely recognise the woman whose reflection looked back at her; her hair hung in long soft waves with a jewelled headband in her hair, and her face was made up with cosmetics carefully applied by one of the palace maids.

The past year had changed her in ways she could not have imagined; a year ago, she did not think she would ever be able to face the world again and had hidden herself within the walls of this palace, only venturing out into the gardens under the watchful eyes of her chaperone and the palace guard. Now, even she could almost fool herself into believing she was still the same Lady Elissa Cousland she had been before her debasement. She stood before the mirror, nervously pushing a lock of hair from her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.

'You look beautiful,' said her brother from the doorway.

She looked around and smiled at Fergus. 'Is it okay?' she asked, turning on the spot showing off her gown that was Fereldan in design but adorned with elements from the current fashion from Nevarra, such as the wide, floating sleeves, fuller skirt and short train.

'It's lovely,' he said. Fergus gave her an expectant look. 'When are you going to tell him?'

'I'm not sure,' she said, twisting her fingers absently. She had told her brother of her resolution to give the King his answer tonight. 'Bit nervous, really.'

'Looking like that, you shouldn't be,' he replied. 'I take it the answer is yes?'

'Am I that pathetically predictable?'

Fergus chuckled. 'Only because I know you so well,' he said affectionately. 'Sister, if I might make a suggestion? I would tell him before the ball. Some of the women are hoping to lasso him tonight. It would not be fair for him to endure that while you hold your answer to your heart.'

Elissa nodded, knowing her brother was right; she had not missed the little plans to gain attention or seduce the young King. Promising to seek him out later, Elissa excused herself to make the short walk to the Royal Quarters. It was not far from her own guest rooms, occupying the same wing of the palace and Elissa had hoped it was close enough that she wouldn't have time to get nervous, but the butterflies still churned in her stomach. The guards admitted her without question, used to her frequent visits and no doubt assuming that she had agreed to attend the ball with the King. It did not take her long to find Alistair, as the man himself was speaking with his chamberlain in the main corridor. He glanced up when he heard her approach before doing a double take to look at her properly. He looked resplendent in a doublet of deep crimson trimmed with gold piping, black breeches and highly polished black boots. His gazed glided over her, taking in all the details; a year ago she would have recoiled under such scrutiny, but she had come to understand that when Alistair looked at her like this it was because he was looking at the woman he hoped would agree to marry him.

She curtsied demurely, bowing her head to disguise the blush that came over her under his scrutiny. 'Your Majesty,' she murmured.

Despite the familiarity of their relationship in private, when in view of servants, guards or other members of the court, they maintained a formality with each other that their rank and protocol demanded.

'Lady Cousland,' he said, holding out his hand, which she took as she rose from her curtsey. 'I did not expect to see you before the ball. I knew all the other ladies were over exaggerating when they claimed to need all day to ready themselves.'

'I am expecting an influx of Orlesian fashion,' said Elissa seriously, though her eyes glinted. 'I've certainly seen enough ribbon and boned corsets to warrant concern.'

Alistair chuckled as he released her hand, sending a surprising pang of regret through her. 'To what do I owe the pleasure, my lady?' he asked, meeting her gaze with warm, amber coloured eyes.

Elissa clasped her hands together to still the tremor that threatened to pass through them. 'I believe there is an unresolved matter that I agreed to give a great deal of consideration to.'

His eyes widened. 'Of course,' he said, turning to a large oak door she knew led to his comfortable living room. 'Come in.'

The nerves were settling in now and Elissa was only able to follow him through sheer force of will. It was as if her mind wanted to take her in one direction and her body wanted to take her the other, which was understandable as she knew that she was at a precipice from which she could either leap or flee; there was one choice to be made and she knew that the rest of her life would be defined by it. Alistair had crossed the room and although he tried to look calm she could tell by the set of his jaw that he was as nervous as she was. Elissa's legs shook as she stood before him wishing he would offer her a seat. He didn't so she remained standing.

'I decided it would be best if I gave you the answer before the ball, as there are quite a few women vying for your attention tonight.' He nodded once. 'Alistair, I have thought about this, and you know that it scares me to give myself to another after the things I endured. I've thought about whether I could let that fear go, and it isn't easy to stop being afraid. Not when I still wake up screaming because I think I am still trapped in that awful nightmare.'

She took a deep breath and twisted her hands as she gathered her fraying nerves before she took the fateful step and leaped from the precipice into the unknown future. 'But you said you would never force me, nor put me in a position where I would have to be afraid and I think I could try; I could try to let go of the past. For you.' She met his eyes, her gaze steady as she spoke. 'If you still wish it to be so, then yes, I would very much like to be your wife.'

His was stunned, but there was so much warmth and affection in his amber eyes. 'Do you mean that?' he asked her quietly, his tone tinged with disbelief and not a small amount of fear that he was dreaming.

She nodded. 'I mean it.'

The stunned look softened into a smile before he walked over to her. 'You'll be my wife, and Queen.'

'I shall,' she replied as he took her hands.

'You're shaking,' he said, squeezing her hands gently to reassure her.

Elissa smiled weakly. 'I'll confess I'm a little nervous,' she said.

'You're nervous? I thought you were going to reject me for the second time when you started,' he said. 'That isn't good for any man's ego, much less a King who doesn't know what he's doing half the time.'

'You give yourself too little credit, Alistair,' she said.

'We'll see,' he replied. 'I have something for you. I picked it from the Royal treasury for you.'

Taking her hand, he led her through a door into his inner sanctum; for the first time she got a glimpse of the opulently furnished room with a grand, curtained four poster bed that dominated the back wall of the large chamber along with an elaborately carved oak armoire. The section of the room they stood in contained a sofa in front of a crackling fire and a desk with a chair to the side, behind that several full book cases. A thick book lay face down on the desk, a tome that she had read when she had been younger that contained case studies from Landsmeets past; he was truly dedicating himself to learning how to govern. Elissa smiled, not least because that meant that with time and practice he would be able to shake off Eamon's influence entirely. Although the elder statesman had been an excellent guide for the young King, Alistair had begun stepping out into the role on his own. It was not unusual for her to find him in one of the libraries researching the precedent for situations brought before him and seeking advice elsewhere on how to proceed.

From the desk he pulled out a small velvet bag. ''I thought you would prefer this to some of the more ostentatious pieces.' The ring he pulled from the bag was a simple band of highly polished volcanic aurum with three square cut stones; a large blue sapphire set with a diamond on either side. 'I couldn't quite picture you with one of the larger pieces and it reminded me of you, elegant without being fussy, and the blue for Highever.'

She picked it up and smiled, looking at the clear, sparklingly stones. 'It's beautiful, thank you.'

Alistair smiled. 'Here, let me,' he said softly. Taking the ring in one hand and gently gripping her hand in the other, he raised her hand and slid the ring onto her finger before bending down to place a feather light kiss on her now jewel adorned knuckles. 'Perfect,' he whispered as he straightened back to his full height.

Elissa's heart hammered in her chest as she looked at her hand in his, wearing a ring that bound her to her decision to put aside her fear and her pain and to become a wife, with all the duties that entailed. Alistair stroked her knuckles gently with his thumb, but instead of quelling her nerves, it only intensified them.

'You okay?'

She exhaled shakily and nodded.

'May I kiss you?'

Elissa looked up and met his warm, soft eyes. She nodded again her throat to tight to speak from being so overwhelmed by everything that was happening to her. Alistair closed the last of the space between them and his free hand came up to cup her jaw, tilting her head back slowly. His lips were warm and soft as he placed his lips on hers, kissing her softly and tracing the delicate line of her cheek. She sighed, opening up to him as she brought her arms up over his shoulders and around his neck as the kiss deepened. Alistair wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer into his embrace. In the past, the feeling of a man's body in such close proximity to her own would have brought overwhelming feelings of fear and revulsion; but here in Alistair's arms, all she felt was comfort and safety, and in that perfect moment she truly began to believe that she could heal and move beyond the torments of her past. The kiss finally came to a slow, natural conclusion that left Elissa feeling slightly dazed.

She met his eyes and smiled. 'That was…' she said a little dreamily, before she lifted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him again.

-…-

The news of the King's unexpected betrothal swept through the ballroom like a storm, sweeping away the hopes and dreams of eligible young ladies in tide of gossip and chatter. Fergus made his way through the pressing crowd of congratulations to find the new Teryn of Gwaren, Teagan Guerrin, looking at the husband hunters in horror as all attention was suddenly redirected at him. Fergus clapped his shoulder and smirked. 'Congratulations on becoming the most eligible man in the room,' he said dryly to the man who had replaced his brother in the southern Terynir.

'And congratulations on becoming brother-in-law to the King,' replied Teagan with a genuine smile. 'I'm glad she accepted, I feared we would end up with the likes of Habren as Queen.'

Both men shot a look in the direction of Arl Bryland's daughter. 'Not likely to become Teryna of Gwaren any time soon either, I take it?' asked Fergus sardonically.

Teagan gave the younger man a sideward glance with a raised eyebrow, drawing a wry laugh from Fergus. 'I'll pretend I did not hear that suggestion, Your Grace,' he replied. 'You must be very please for Lady Elissa.'

'So long as it is what she wants, then it is a fine outcome for her,' said Fergus as the herald announced the arrival of the King and his betrothed.

As he watched his sister enter the room on the arm on of the King, Fergus was struck by how radiant she looked. She smiled and laughed as the King muttered something to her and a true sparkle lit up her eyes. It occurred to Fergus what a compromise she had made in agreeing to marry Dairren, the son of Bann Loren, two years ago. While Dairren had been a decent enough man, he merely the least avaricious man to wanted her name and fortune. Like their father before him, Fergus had not been inclined to push Elissa into a union. However, once he had caught on to the blossoming friendship between his sister and the King, he had ordered Elissa's chaperone not to intrude when she was in the company of King Alistair in a bid to allow whatever was between them to flourish naturally.

Elissa's ordeal being what it was, and he could only guess at the levels of depravity she had been subjected to in some cases, he had been surprised when she had told him that she was going to consent to marry King Alistair. However, had she refused a second time, he would have also stood by her side and advised the King to seek a bride elsewhere. Still, Fergus could not help but be overwhelming pleased that his sister would sit on the throne as Queen in a few short weeks. She deserved happiness after all that she had endured

As King Alistair and Lady Elissa entered the ballroom, Fergus was powerfully struck by how regal they looked together; he in Theirin red and she in Cousland blue. For all the trials of his upbringing, King Alistair carried himself with an air of genuine power and authority that Cailan had never managed to achieve. The frivolous King Cailan was gregarious and likable enough but he lacked the gravitas his position should have afforded him; the open secret that Queen Anora was the true power behind the throne had only served to further undermine his authority. Standing beside him, Elissa exuded a warmth and affection that had been sadly missing from the staid former Queen. It was widely agreed that Elissa would have been an ideal consort and there had been no shortage of gossip as to why the King had not asked for Elissa's hand in marriage, including speculation that the King's taste ran more to men than women; but the sight of the two of them together, hand-in-hand, put all such doubts to rest.

It was only Fergus who knew that the King of Ferelden had asked for Elissa's hand twice, with her only accepting on the second occasion after nearly two weeks of careful consideration. She had often been moved to tears as she struggled to ascertain whether she could let go of her terrible past and let herself love and be loved by the man who had captured her heart against the odds.

The Teryn of Highever was the first to come forward and bent the knee before his King. 'Might I be the first to say congratulations to Your Majesty and Your Ladyship on your betrothal?'

'You only get to be first because you have precedence,' said the King wryly, earning a smattering of obsequious laughter from those nearby. 'Thank you, Teryn Cousland.'

They took the first dance together, going over the steps they had been practicing in the last few weeks before they had to switch partners. Being in the arms of any man other than Alistair caused Elissa to tense up, but the King always found his way back to his betrothed, and a simple touch of his hand on her arm relaxed her.

She also mingled between dances, reacquainting herself with friends of a time long forgotten. Between her captivity and her self-imposed exile from court life, two years had a passed and some things had changed. As she spoke with those she remembered best, her gaze often tracked to the King, and she could not help but notice the way his gaze openly followed her wherever she went; the thought that he was watching over her giving her a greater feeling of security than any number of guards could. How she could have missed the open affection that was so plainly written on his face was a mystery to her. Perhaps he had concealed it from her so as not to overwhelm her. It had taken her a long time to get to this moment and the implication of his patience was amazing. He had waited, and waited for the moment when he knew she would be ready.

Once the ball was over and they farewelled their guests, Alistair escorted her to her rooms, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist leaning into his embrace. She had to admit that she enjoyed being able to be so openly familiar with him in public view now that they were formally betrothed. By the time they arrived it was too late for nightcaps so he bade her goodnight at her door with a soft kiss on her lips. 'Good night, my bride-to-be,' he whispered, before lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles.

He turned to leave her and she watched him as he walked away, apparently at ease with himself as he put his hands in his pockets. Just before he reached the corner of the corridor, he turned to look at her, their eyes meeting. Elissa stepped away from the door and watched her betrothed walk back to her. He reached out to her, his fingers caressing her shoulder before cupping her jaw, his amber gaze softening as he leant in to kiss her. He kissed her gently, moving his lips against her as he once again pulled her into his embrace.

'You are so beautiful,' he told her when the kiss ended. 'I've been falling for you from the moment I saw in clutching a shawl in the kitchen doorway,' he confessed in a low husky voice. She gazed at him with a radiant smile and reached up to cup his cheek, caressing his skin with her soft fingers. 'I've been waiting to tell you. I was so afraid you would leave here if you knew before you were ready.'

A tear bust to life in her eye and he took her in his arms, cradling her against his chest as she melted in to him, finally surrendering the last of her fears.

_I have a wee confession about this chapter – I wrote two versions of it, this one, and one where she did not give her answer, but seeing as I left _The Battle for Ferelden_ on one hell of a cliffhanger (for those of you reading it, you know what I did), I decided to go with this one and not string it out. _

_My thanks to Darkly Tranquil for beta-ing. _


	8. Accepting the Future

_Well, I thought I'd pop up some more of this fluff to prove I'm not a heartless murdered of characters. _

Leliana returned to the city upon receiving the news of her friend's betrothal. She was overjoyed for Alistair and abandoned all protocol when she hugged him enthusiastically as she gave him her congratulations. 'I told you, did I not that she would come around,' she said as she accepted a goblet of wine from him. 'She is a lovely lady, very beautiful. You are lucky to have found her.'

Alistair regarded her cautiously. There had always been a hint of regret for both of them about things that could not be and he wonder if his friend was hiding some last residual regret behind her exuberance. He was shocked to discover, now that he had Elissa's acceptance any residual feeling he had for Leliana had fled his heart and while he cared deeply for her, he doubted they were as well suited as he had once thought. 'Are you sure you are alright about all this?'

'Why would I not be?' she asked him. 'I know that things between us could have been different, but we both chose not to let our feelings hinder your future. I am pleased you have found someone to spend your life with.' She was smiling brightly, genuinely happy that her friend had found some happiness in his life. 'When is the wedding set for?'

'A month's time.'

The pretty Orlesian bard looked aghast. 'A month? How can you possibly stage a Royal wedding in only a month? In Orlais, such an occasion would be planned for nearly a year!'

'It's nothing extravagant. With the country still in need of rebuilding we decided to keep it as low key as possible,' explained Alistair. 'It's hard to think about laying on an extravagant wedding when there are people in Ferelden trying to rebuild their lives from nothing.' His tone was pointed, and Leliana got the message immediately.

'You are right, of course,' she said softly.

'Besides, Elissa does not want something as lavish as all that,' he explained. 'She is nervous enough as it is.' Alistair looked at his friend as a thought struck him. 'How long are you staying?'

'Until after the wedding, of course,' she exclaimed. 'I will not miss the opportunity to see the true Hero of the Blight get married.'

Alistair nodded. 'Do you think you could spend some time with Elissa?' he asked her. 'She needs someone who isn't going to fawn over her because she is going to be Queen.'

Leliana brightened and smiled widely. 'Oh, I would love to,' she said excitedly.

-…-

'You don't mind?' Alistair asked his betrothed as he followed her through the gardens she had been cultivating. There wasn't much to do in the winter but Elissa was out checking over the progress of her gardens as she did every morning.

She shook her head. 'Of course not, as you point out, it would be nice to be in the company of someone who doesn't feel the need to play up to me,' she said smiling ruefully. 'Putting up with all the flattery and simpering is already giving me a headache and it's been less than a week.'

'I'm sorry,' he said quietly.

Elissa waved off his apology. 'It is not your fault,' she said. 'It is the way of the nobles; a constant game of push and pull if you will. We work for their favour while they work for ours. I remember a little of these games from before.'

He offered her his arm and she gratefully took it, leaning into his warmth against the cold morning. 'I sometimes forget you were doing this while I was busy learning the Chant of Light,' he said softly.

Leliana turned out to be more exuberant than Elissa remembered but she found she enjoyed Leliana's company, thankful that there was at least one person who did not feel the need to play up to her. The Orlesian bard-turned-Chantry Sister was easily excited by girly things like the swatches of materials and the array of shoes and accessories that were brought before Elissa to choose from. In the end, she chose ivory and muted gold for her wedding gown that would be a traditional Ferelden style with a higher neckline. Leliana had tried to convince her to use an adapted style from Orlais, but the neckline dropped too low and it was off the shoulders; it would have revealed at least three of the scars she kept hidden from the world. Elissa had no desire to advertise the extent of her abuse at all, least of all on her wedding day.

Elissa turned to Leliana and smiled. 'I'm not sure I could have worked my way through that alone,' she confessed sipping on some light lunch wine from a goblet.

'It was my pleasure,' she said. 'It is so nice to remember the finer things in life. I confess I missed some of those when I left Orlais and went to the Chantry. You have a beautiful taste in gowns; when Alistair sees you, he will be blown away. I heard your gown at the ball was the talk of the town.'

Elissa shook her head. 'Only because I was presented as the King's betrothed, I am certain I would have passed unnoticed had I not answered his proposal when I did.'

Leliana giggled; her expression was a little dreamy as she considered the couple. 'I bet you looked beautiful together,' she said. 'Alistair is quite handsome, even more so now he is King.' Leliana looked up to see Elissa's expression become wary. 'I only mean in the sense that he has become more confident. During the Blight, he could be very unsure of himself and Aedan did everything he could to keep Alistair in his place. They were constantly at each other's throats, particularly once Alistair started being less afraid of asserting himself.'

Elissa was watching her curiously. 'I don't understand where you fit into all this.'

Leliana sensed the change of mood. 'I felt the Maker put me on the path to fight the Blight by assisting the Grey Wardens. Besides, after seeing all the suffering in Lothering, I could not stand by and do nothing; not when I had the skills to do some good. But I felt that what I was party to was worse than doing nothing, and had it not been for Alistair, I would have left and found my own way to help.' She smiled sadly. 'He was quite naïve at first, it was very endearing, but after Aedan killed Connor, well that was when everything started to change. The others did not feel as we did about what Aedan did; Morrigan delighted in it, and Sten had vowed to follow Aedan and did so without questioning his methods. There was Oghern for a while, but he did not join us until after Aedan had caused much of the damage and did not truly see your brother for what he was. So all in all, it was Morrigan and Aedan, who enjoyed each other as much as they enjoyed the suffering they caused, and it was me and Alistair trying to minimise the damage they could cause.'

Elissa frowned sadly. 'I didn't realise,' she said. 'I've never really spoken to him about the Blight.'

'They were difficult days,' Leliana confessed, 'but I am sure he will tell you when he is ready. But you should not mind me. I cared a great deal for him in those days, but I am happy he has found you. He has a sort of glow to him and he nearly always smiles now. I think you have much to look forward to in the coming years.'

'Thank you,' said Elissa quietly as she became preoccupied with her glass.

Leliana sensed the change in mood. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Perhaps it was not the best time to speak of this and now I feel I have stepped you on your toes.'

Elissa shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I never asked him because I was scared of what he would tell me.'

'He is a good man,' Leliana assured her, 'he didn't participate in the slaying of the elves, nor did he condone killing Connor or the annulment of the Circle and he saved the Ashes of Andraste. Aedan tried to kill him for causing dissent, but your brother was not skilled with his sword.' Leliana shook her head sighing heavily. 'It makes me uneasy now that Aedan is gone and free to roam as he will, but perhaps the Maker will see sense and take him to his Calling sooner rather than later.'

'His Calling?' asked Elissa looking up.

Leliana looked at Elissa with mortified horror. 'Has Alistair not told you of this?'

'No,' said Elissa slowly, shaking her head. 'He has not.'

A look of deep sadness crossed the Bard's face. 'It is not something you should ask of me. Even Alistair did not mean to tell me, but it was so lonely for him, carrying the burdens of being a Warden and Aedan had just ordered the massacre on the elves with the werewolves.' She shook her head sadly. 'You should ask him yourself.'

Cold fear and dread trickled down Elissa's spine as she stood up. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but Elissa just knew, like she knew summer rolled into autumn that whatever this Calling was, she was not going to let it go without explanation. She bid Leliana a swift goodbye before sweeping from the room in search of the King.

-…-

She felt numb as she closed the door to her rooms and leant against the heavy oak with tears rolling from her eyes. She had run from Alistair's presence when he told her what the Calling meant for him, for them. Elissa had hoped, in her naivety that she had found a happy ending to her own story, but it was not to be so. At any point in his life, Alistair could succumb to the Taint in his body and be compelled to make one last, violent stand against the darkspawn. It was not fair; had she not suffered enough at the hands of a gang of bandits? Then to start coming to life again under the care of a man who treated her with such tenderness only to discover that his fate was already written. This time a painful sob escaped her lips. She bowed her head as there was a soft knock at the door.

'Elissa?'

His voice was so soft through the door.

'I know it's hard,' he said. 'It's not something I relish and if I could change it, I would.' Elissa heard him sigh. 'I was angry when Duncan told me, I mean, thirty years, it feels like nothing when you consider I may not even reach my fiftieth year. But Duncan also told me it is not how long you live, but how you live the life you are given. Elissa, I want to spend my life with you, loving you as you deserve to be loved.'

Silence fell as Elissa processed what he had said to her, focusing again and again on the way he said 'loving you', his voice had turned to such a gentle timbre as he spoke. She bowed her head as more tears rolled down her cheeks, not from devastation but from the warmth that bloomed inside her. Elissa had suspected the depth of his feelings for her; the two proposals and the confession of how beautiful he thought she was despite her physical scars and half-healed emotional wounds had given her a sense of his hitherto unspoken love for her, but to hear him say the words out loud gave it an entirely different and greater magnitude.

She turned and opened the door. 'Loving me?' she repeated.

Elissa had only looked at him briefly before she had spoken, but when she repeated those words a smile curved on his lips. 'Yes,' he said. 'Loving you.'

He stepped across the threshold of her rooms, closing the door before holding a hand out to her. She smiled before she took his hand and allowed herself to fall into his embrace. He kissed her forehead. 'I love you, Elissa Cousland.'


	9. The Wedding Day

_I'm going to pop a warning on this chapter, because I don't want anyone being caught out by some of the content. It contains some descriptions of the abuse that Elissa was subjected to – while I don't express anything too explicitly, it can still be quite a difficult subject to stomach for people. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter for what it is. _

Elissa sat bolt upright in her bed just as the day was dawning on her wedding day. She was drenched in cold sweat from her nightmare, the old one of those monsters who had violated every part of her and left scars that would never fade. She had been in a state of agitation all week, her moods veering from the normal sort of anxiety that would be appropriate of a blushing bride, to bouts of hysteria as she tried to come to terms with the future she had chosen. She took a deep breath; it was not as if she was being married off to some brute of a man who would turn out to be no better than the thugs that had tortured her for a year. But she was still shaky as she rose from her bed and readied herself for a scented bath. Normally, she undressed with her back to the mirror, unwilling to catalogue the mementos of abuse that marred her body but today she felt it was perhaps a good time to accept the damage that had been done to her. She'd always been a bit shy of looking at herself unclothed, in some part of her mind it felt wrong and a year in the hands of violent men had done nothing to make her think otherwise. Yet today she forced her eyes downward to a scar that ran over her shoulder; an injury caused by the bandit leader carelessly cutting the shoulder of her clothes away, not caring that his blade bit into her flesh at the same time. Further down, there was a scar of a bite mark to the side of her breast and below that, evidence of a broken rib from where she had been beaten for having the audacity to resist her captors.

But the true scars were invisible; the violation of her womanhood had physically healed over time but the thought of anyone going near there made her shake with fear. Yet she wanted to feel physical love; she could not deny that the thought of making love with the man who loved her had intrigued her and although she was terrified, she had vowed to attend to all her wifely duties. She had not made such a vow to Alistair, who, knowing him for the kind, chivalrous man he was, would likely refuse any such promise from her in any case.

As she sank into the hot bath that had been drawn for her, she tried to remember she was under no such pressure to lie with her new husband today or any other day; he had made that abundantly clear that all physical intimacy between them would occur on her terms. It was only what those outside the relationship expected it to happen. Instead, she thought of the soft kisses her betrothed often lavished on her and the warmth and safety of his embrace. As she lay back, allowing the scents to relax her, she tried to remember all the moments that had led to this point and realised that it did make her truly happy.

After breakfasting with her brother, which she didn't enjoy as she was too nervous to eat, the maids and her dressmaker arrived. Her personal maid had assisted with putting her undergarments that had been delivered on so that no one else would see the scars that marked her, least she start her tenure as Queen on rumours that she was a loose woman with exotic tastes in the bed chamber. Her personal maid was well aware of Elissa's background and had remained discreet about her mistress's debasement. Elissa was pleased the elven woman would be remaining her maid after her marriage, least she have to share her shameful secret to anyone else.

The finished dress outdid her ball gown and while remained Ferelden in design, once again, the dressmaker had added adornments that made it stand out. The ivory and gold material Elissa had chosen weeks earlier had been designed into a dress that was a little more daring than Elissa had ever dreamt of wearing. The ivory material made up a full length under kirtle that had been embroider at the sleeves, neck and more elaborately at the bottom of the skirt; twisting designs of flowers in glittering gold thread wove intricate patterns over the material. Then the gown was brought in; Elissa had conceded to allowing the dressmaker to add crimson to the design as red and gold were the colours of the Theirin's heraldry. After careful consideration, and further advice from Leliana, Elissa agreed and she could not have been more astonished with the results. Leliana arrived just as the creation was unveiled and the Orlesian girl squealed in delight, clapping her hands together and even Fergus was impressed by the result.

'Oh, that is far better than the design I originally suggested,' Leliana said, looking at the red and gold creation with slightly jealous approval.

Mostly dark crimson, the dress hugged her body before exploding into wide, deep skirt that ended in a train of red at the back. The gold material peeked over the half bodice of the dress covering her chest and shoulders in a square cut, it was visible beneath the red laces at the front before flaring out and making up the front section of the skirt before it gave way to the crimson. The sleeves were red and closely fitted to her arms before flaring out in wide sleeves of embroidered gold, the flower design of the glittering red and gold thread matched the kirtle she wore under the dress. Although it had decorative lace up detail at the front, the fastening to the dress was at the back, the laces were made of thick gold cord that had had been shot through with blue. Fergus remarked with a conspiratorial smirk that they couldn't have her forgetting her Cousland roots in all the excitement of her becoming a Theirin.

Her ebony hair was braided and twisted into a design that allowed a crown to sit upon her head once the coronation was done. Fergus had supplied her with two hair combs he had discovered in Highever, somehow untouched by Howe's occupation, that had once belonged to their grandmother before passing to their mother as a wedding gift when she married their father. Now she wore the sapphire encrusted combs on her wedding day.

Finally dressed, after two hours of tugging, pulling, preening and priming, Elissa turned to look at her brother and Leliana who exchanged a smile before declaring that she was beautiful and not even Elissa could deny it as she twisted and turned in the mirror once again wonder where this confident side of her had reappeared from. She was no longer looking at the fearful, scarred Elissa Cousland, but at the beautiful, confident woman who would be Queen of Ferelden in less than an hour. Elissa's stomach churned; she was going to be Queen. She could not help the nasty thought that rose up making her wish that Aedan could be here just to see the look on his face. It was a vicious thought, but she wanted her brother to see that he could not harm her and she wasn't afraid of him.

'I will see you after,' Leliana declared before hurrying to join the rest of the party in the Chantry.

In their last moments of privacy, Fergus took his sister's hand. 'They would be so proud of you,' Fergus told her with a smile. 'I know I am.'

Her brother tenderly brushed a tear from her eye before she threw her arms around him.

'Now, now, can't have the future Queen turning up for her wedding in tears and runny make-up,' he remarked lightly.

He escorted her to the Chantry chapel on the grounds of the palace were they were to be wed before the Grand Cleric. Alistair had donned his ceremonial armour, an expensive creation of Silverite and Volcanic Aurum, and he looked every inch the King as he waited for her at the altar. She had never seen him in his armour before today, but taking stock, she decided it suited him far more than any of the other clothes she had seen him in. He had the right sort of energy and authority to fill a suit of armour and after his upbringing he was probably more comfortable in it anyway.

The look on his face when he saw her was one of awe; he openly gazed at her in full adoration as Fergus led her down the aisle and she could not help but look down to conceal the blush that now rose over her cheeks. While she usually enjoyed his open affection, she was feeling nervous; under the gaze of so many, even those whom she had become comfortable with like Teryn Teagan, Bann Alfstanna and Arl Bryland, she felt self-conscious. Her nerves were not helped by the few hostile looks from the noble daughters of the Bannorn who had desperately wanted to claim the King of Ferelden for their own.

At the foot of the dais, she curtseyed to her King; while Alistair had told her it was ridiculous custom particularly as she was about to marry him she had pointed out that even as his Queen, she would not be his equal in the eyes of the realm regardless of their personal relationship. But he was uneasy of the submission it suggested in their relationship. However, Elissa found that she wanted to show Ferelden deference to her King and that she implicitly trusted him. There would be no doubt that this Cousland Queen was absolutely loyal to her Theirin King.

Their vows of marriage were simple ones, promising to love and honour one another to the Maker's side and beyond. Elissa had added those lines after discovering his shorten life span. While the actual vows were short, the ceremony was long as the Grand Cleric pontificated to the hostage flock. Then after the Grand Cleric declared them husband and wife, Alistair stepped aside as she was crowned Queen Consort. She and Alistair had gone over the ceremony a few times over the past month during which time he veered from serious to downright irreverent of his own position. She shook as a heavy crown was placed on her head, but moments later Alistair returned to her side, whispering some words of encouragement. She noticed as she stood that he now wore his own crown; an object he frequently declared as cumbersome and often left untouched, but so long as Elissa had to wear one, he would to. They both planned to remove them before the Wedding feast.

The congregation stood and bent to one knee to welcome their new Queen, with a herald calling 'Long live the King and Queen' which was repeated twice through Chantry before the King and Queen walked down the aisle hand in hand for the Wedding feast. They feasted in style; it wasn't the grand opulent affair that had accompanied Cailan's wedding, but it was still worthy of much discussion among the attending nobility. Exquisite food and wine were served over several courses, although Elissa found it difficult to eat as the anticipation of what was to come began to dominate her thoughts once more.

Before the evening reception Alistair had changed out of his armour, donning an outfit tailored to complement Elissa's dress so that they could dance comfortably together rather than negotiate all the steps in his bulky plate. Once the dances and speeches were done, Alistair led his bride back to what was now their joint living quarters in the palace. He had shown her around properly a few weeks earlier. The layout was not dissimilar to Highever's private wing and comprised of additional bedrooms, several parlours, a private dining room, a small library as well as Alistair's main study and the drawing room that she had spent many an evening in. Nonetheless, she began trembling when they crossed the threshold of their living quarters and even more so when they reached their bedroom.

'Elissa,' he said softly once they were alone. 'We don't have to do this now. We can wait for as long as you want.'

She nodded as she looked at the bed; it was huge when compared to the bed she had been used to with luxurious coverlets and sheets. She looked back at her husband. 'I want to, with you, but I'm scared.'

Alistair pulled her close. 'I know,' he whispered before pressing a kiss to her brow. 'Right now, the fact that you are here with me is enough.'

'I don't deserve you,' she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He cradled her against his chest, gently stroking her back. Elissa tensed a little and he stopped. She stepped away from his embrace and turned her back on him.

'I don't know what to do,' she confessed. 'I want to be a good wife to you, Alistair and I do want us to enjoy being together.'

Alistair smiled, his expression tender. 'And I want to enjoy being with you, but we won't enjoy it if it's forced. You know I haven't been with anyone ever, you will be my first and mostly likely only so we don't have to rush this.'

She nodded, twisting her fingers. 'Do you think we could start by helping me out of this dress?'

He nodded. 'That I can do,' he said, walking up to her.

Elissa stood stock still as Alistair approached her from behind. She still felt nervous, even with him, of men being this close to her where she could not see them. Somehow, without her telling him, Alistair had swiftly cottoned on to her fear and so usually stood beside her. As he worked the laces free she concentrated on the feeling of his fingers through the material. He was gentle as he pulled the cords loose enough before gently pushing the dress over her shoulders revealing the ivory kirtle. She stepped out of the gown before laying it out flat across the back of a chaise longue.

'Thank you,' she said shyly, averting her gaze. She had enjoyed his tender touch; the way his fingers skimmed over her shoulders had caused her heart to leap. She turned back to him and pressed a kiss to his lips; it was shy and chaste whilst also acquiescent to take things further. 'May I?' she asked, as her fingers when to the golden buttons of the waistcoat he wore. He nodded tightly as her fingers worked the intricate buttons. She pulled it off easily, revealing a linen shirt that was undone at the throat. She remembered him loosening it when they had left the ballroom. This close she could make out a scar that slashed downwards and out of sight of his chest. Elissa reached out and touched him the scar. 'How did this happen?'

'Can't remember,' he said. 'It's hard to keep track of every injury.'

Her eyes widen and to illustrate the point, Alistair removed his shirt; his entire torso was criss-crossed with scars, a testament to his life as a Grey Warden battling the Blight. Her hand went to three deeply etched scars that ran from near his belly button right up and round to his back. Her shaking hand caressed him lightly and he exhaled in an equally shaky manner.

'Surely you remember this one?' she asked him, tilting her head to the side.

'Archdemon,' he said, 'damn near killed me. Aedan would have loved that; he'd have married Anora and gotten himself on the throne but Eamon had his court mage patch me up.'

'It looks like you need more than just mere patching up,' she pointed out.

'Ten days confined to a bed,' he admitted. 'Thankfully, that is a nice bed.' His eyes slid to the giant bed he occupied. 'For sleeping that it, and perhaps other things, when you're ready of course. No rush.'

Elissa laughed at his babbling; he did that when he was nervous from time to time, but when he saw she was laughing, he chuckled ruefully as well.

'I've not really done this before,' he reminded her. 'My head is all tied up in knots with you standing here, in your kirtle after marrying me and I'll confess it's a little overwhelming.'

'Well, that makes both of us,' she pointed out, 'expect you aren't in a kirtle and to be honest, I'm not sure it would suit you.'

The tension broke and Alistair laughed. 'I've been told I look dashing in a dress.' he said in mock offense.

Elissa gave him a sceptical look. 'Not with those shoulders,' she said. 'You do, however, look rather handsome in your armour. I've not seen you wear it before.'

He smiled softly. 'It seemed the more comfortable choice when I was being harassed about my wedding outfit,' he chuckled.

'Do you miss it?'

Alistair considered her question before he shrugged. 'At first. I was raised for most of my life to be a solider; first a Templar, and then Grey Warden and suddenly I'm King of Ferelden. When I'm dressed in all that silk and brocade with everyone bowing and calling me 'Your Majesty' sometimes even I forget that I am still me underneath all that. Today, I needed to feel like me when I made those vows to you today and not like King Alistair.'

The expression on Elissa's face was so soft and she smiled before she turned, taking a step towards the bed. 'Will you help me?' she asked gathering her hair to expose the laces of her kirtle.

Her hand rested on the bed post for support; she bowed her head and closed her eyes willing herself to be as calm as possible.

Alistair's gentle touch brushed over her shoulders, squeezing her reassuringly. 'You don't have to do this,' he said. 'Not now.'

'This isn't anything, is it? Not really,' she said. 'I'm asking you unlace my kirtle. My maid does the same thing every night.'

'Your maid doesn't want to spend her wedding night making love to you,' he pointed out.

Elissa felt her body melt a little; she had thought about making love to Alistair in her idle hours. She hoped that after the sheer brutality of her past, sharing love with him would be blissful and in time, perhaps she would be cleansed of her debasement. 'True,' she agreed. 'But I trust you.'

Alistair pressed a kiss to her neck, feeling her tense up. 'If you need me to stop,' he said.

She shook her head. 'Please don't,' she said as his hands drifted down her back.

Elissa swallowed hard, trying to remind herself that she was safe but in the past similar actions had led to brutal abuse at the hands of pawing men who only cared for their pleasure and revealed in perversity of causing her both physical and emotional pain. As Alistair's hands began working on the new set of laces a wave of nausea rose up and she clamped down on the feeling, reminding herself in a mantra that this was not the same and she could say 'stop'. Only she could not; the word refused to form in her throat. When she had first found herself captive, the first time she had fought back scratching with her nails and screaming no and stop, but her captors had only laughed as they overpowered her and violently deflowered her. Alistair gently pulled apart the kirtle and he cursed violently under his breath before a finger traced along a thin scar from where she had once been whipped in punishment… or was it fun? Elissa couldn't remember now.

Alistair stepped back from her and put his hands in his pockets. Elissa turned to look at him, one of the shoulders of her kirtle had fallen down her arm. She looked beautiful, but were would he even start? Loving her was easy, but he had not truly realised the extent at which she was damaged. She could kiss him with such confidence, accept his embraces and even allow his caress but seeing this, these thin scars of abuse… a wave of nausea over took him at the depravity that some men could stoop to.

'Elissa, I don't know if I can do this,' he confessed. 'I don't want to hurt you.'

Her arms had come up over her chest and stomach to prevent the underdress from falling further. Her expression was so conflicted, torn between relief and disappointment. He stepped up to her and cupped her face tenderly.

'I don't want you hating me because you are too afraid to say no,' he said before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

As he wrapped his arms around her, she melted into his embrace, cushioned against his chest before she let the tears flow not caring that she should not cry on her wedding day.


	10. A Royal Tour

Spring arrived in a flurry of colour as Elissa had predicted when the first of her patiently cultivated gardens flourished to life. In the months since their marriage, the shy Cousland scion slid smoothly into her a role as his wife and Queen, learning to find a balance between who she was and who she needed to be to function within the role she had chosen to embrace. She learnt to find love and tenderness in the arms of her husband and King, and while she had given herself to him, sudden bouts of passion and energy in the bedroom still alarmed her, but Alistair remained mindful of her worries and never pushed once she said no. Despite that, he found that she was tender and enthusiastic lover when the mood took her.

As he got used to Elissa's nearly constant presence, Alistair began to realise just how lonely he had been since taking the throne. He had been so caught up in the business of learning to rule so that he would not be so dependent on Eamon's advice, that he had been forgetting to make time for a life outside of his role as King. Since his ascension to the throne, his daily life had become a blur of court sessions, endless meetings, and official functions, interspersed with all too brief periods of sleep and relaxation. As the Kingdom would not fall apart if he whiled away an hour in the company of his wife and enjoying the peace of her company, he began taking more time to himself and remembering to enjoy his life a little more.

She was an elegant woman who brought grace and dedication to all her duties as a Queen and a wife. Alistair found himself watching her constantly; her warmth as Queen had catapulted her to popularity in the city, where she often went on walkabouts to boost morale for the rebuilding effort. When she went on her outings into the city, he always made sure to make the time to go with her, all too aware that she remained skittish around strangers and large crowds, and that his presence reassured her greatly. Observing her interacting with the common folk of Denerim in spite of her fears made Alistair realise that his choice of Queen had been exactly what the country needed after the Blight; someone warm and human who could connect with a people that feared their rulers would forget them amidst their own concerns. She listened to the people and where she could, she gave them a voice amongst the squabbling Banns who were all pressing that their situation was direr than that of the city. Alistair was well pleased with the results of his choice, even if he could not attribute the decision to any great political acumen on his part; it had been his heart that had led him to Elissa, not his head.

As a wife, she was an effective mistress of the Royal household, directly them with warmth but without brooking any argument. She often did things that the servants regarded as beneath her station, such as mend his shirts or take a duster to the mantel piece in their private chambers. She also knitted and sewed, making little hats or shirts for the orphans of the Blight, who were more than overjoyed to receive her creations. Alistair felt a pang of regret as he watched her knit a hat small enough for a newborn, thinking what a wonderful mother she would make and that in marrying him, he had taken it from her.

He mentioned it once and she told him that it would be as the Maker intended. She had stroked his cheek reassuringly before kissing him after that conversation. That night he made love to her, half wishing that it would give them a child but it did not; a month passed and Elissa had her bleeding. He tried not to be disappointed about it, successfully hiding it from his wife, but he couldn't help but wonder what more they could, and should, have together that they were denied by their unique circumstances.

As spring warmed into summer, the Royal Couple decided to embark on a tour of their Kingdom to survey the rebuilding themselves. Alistair had been trapped in Denerim since the end of the Blight and his feet were itching to get out into open country again. Despite being a little apprehensive at the prospect of being out in the open after her year long ordeal, Elissa found she was actually looking forward to leaving Denerim for a few months. It wasn't as if she could find herself in the same situation ever again; no one was ever likely to attack the Royal entourage.

She dressed in formal riding gear; she wore what looked like a full length gown but was actually a thick, leather reinforced coat that parted from the hip line to allow Elissa to ride properly without bunches of skirt in front her. Beneath the coat she wore matching leggings with a bodice and chemise to keep the worst of the still cool air at bay. The outfit she wore as she was leaving the city was green and gold, and as Alistair watched her mount a horse with effortless grace and push her hair from her eyes, he could not help but marvel how beautiful she was. As she adjusted to being in the saddle she smiled and said something to her maid who would be riding in one of the many carriages that would follow them.

He opted for his armour; with a reputation as being a Hero of the Blight, he had an image to maintain. A lot of Ferelden knew him as a warrior King and he was determined not to let his people down. With the heavy plate weighing him down and his sword at his side, Alistair could almost pretend that he was just another solider again, except his armour and sword were made of some of the most expensive materials available in Ferelden rather than iron or steel. He saw Elissa smile at him as she came to join him.

'I feel terribly under armed,' she remarked, eying his heavy plate and sword. 'Should I have engaged in more intensive weapon's training before setting out?'

He took her gloved hand and kissed her knuckles. 'You'll be fine so long as you have that dagger I gave you.'

Alistair had given her a simple but wicked dagger shortly after their wedding; he had wanted her to be able to defend herself should she ever find herself in the position where she needed to fight. The dagger had once belonged to Duncan; he had recovered it from the putrid remains of an ogre upon his return to the battlefield where all his Grey Warden brothers had been killed in battle. He had never trained to fight dual-handed with a sword and dagger as his late mentor had done, as such the dagger had lain idle for over a year by the time he had given it to Elissa. He taught her how to use it; showing her how to hold the weapon and the best places to strike an attacker. It would provide her with enough protection until he could reach her should the need arise while they were on the road.

'Tucked into my boot,' she confirmed pressing her hand to top of her boot where the pommel was just visible.

-…-

The damage from the Blight was far more severe than they had dared imagine. Entire villages had been razed to the ground, thousands of people had been killed in the fighting and the land itself had been infected by the filth of the darkspawn. Elissa could not help the horror that welled up inside of her as she looked upon the suffering of the people. No one had escaped the two years of horror that had been inflicted on Ferelden unscathed; many of those who had not been killed in the fighting had died from disease or the famine that followed. The people who felt most helpless did not view their monarchs favourably, and the King and Queen frequently found themselves on the receiving end of verbal frustration and even the occasional attack from rotten vegetables. Some holdings were more disaffected than others, as not every Bann was keen to spend the money from the Crown on rebuilding instead hoarding it for their own uses.

There had been a particularly nasty riot in one southern village, and Elissa had been dragged from her horse in a scuffle of angry men who only wanted food and clean water. She had been hit across the face and while she had maintained her composure as Alistair stormed into the fight after her and rescued her by pulling her up behind him on his horse, afterwards she had collapsed in his arms and wept uncontrollably until she fell into a fitful sleep. The men, having chosen their target poorly, were charged with treason and although Alistair wanted to commute the sentence to life imprisonment he knew that if he did that then the people would perceive it as a weakness and who knew what additional injury could be brought upon Elissa if she were exposed to further violence. Elissa accept his decision with an equal sadness, knowing in her heart it was not her that they were angry at but what they perceived she represented.

It wasn't all angry villagers, however; the King and Queen led a memorial in the ruins of Lothering for all those lost at Ostagar and the subsequent sacking of Lothering. The scattered former inhabitants had been making their way back to the area since the end of the Blight, living in the remaining shacks and makeshift tents. They met with the village elder, a woman Alistair remembered when he had arrived here with Aedan. The woman was worn and haggard now, but she spoke with spirit and optimism about rebuilding the village with the memorial to King Cailan and the fallen as a centre point to their new home.

In Redcliffe, Alistair was greeted by a joyous crowd, keen to welcome him back to the village he had grown up in. The inhabitants had a special place in their hearts for the King who had lived here and then returned to divert disaster caused by Connor Guerrin's possession. Alistair had told her of the horrific undead that had swarmed the village, reducing it to a handful of inhabitants before discovering the architect of their misery was a Desire Demon that Connor had somehow summoned. When she had been a captive of bandits, she had heard that Connor Guerrin was dead by her brother and Alistair's hands and she had felt anger and disgust. However, when she had learnt the full truth from Alistair, she found she believed that it was better for the young boy to be at peace rather than living with the possibility of becoming possessed again, not to mention the reaction of the Templars should they have discovered one of their charges had once been in the thrall of a demon. Even Alistair had come to terms with what had happened, privately telling Elissa that it was probably for the best.

Alistair dismounted his horse and went to greet the crowd, shaking hands with those he had fought beside when the undead hordes had besieged them. Elissa dismounted slowly, still a little shaken from her earlier attack. Like this crowd they had been noisy, pressing in on either side of her, but unlike this crowd, they had been jeering and threatening. Hands gently grabbed her waist and she started, spinning around to protect herself from attack when she realised her ever chivalrous husband was assisting her down. Her expression turned to a smile as she allowed him to assist her.

'Sorry,' he murmured, 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

She shook her head. 'No, I probably should have realised, they aren't exactly baying for blood are they?'

Alistair chuckled before tilting her head back a little to kiss her gently. 'Still,' he whispered against her lips as the crowd cheered at the genuine open affection between their King and Queen, 'I should have remembered.'

Despite Alistair vowing to never return to the Castle, Arl Eamon and Arlessa Isolde were the perfect hosts, graciously welcoming the King and Queen to their home. The Castle, Alistair remarked, had been restored to its post Blight glory with the blood having been scrubbed from the walls following the massacre that had happened within these walls. Elissa was aghast by his flippancy; as she understood it, hundreds of people had died here and he was making a joke of it? He winced when she excused herself from his company, walking away calmly but clearly upset by what he had said. She remained cool and distant when he sought her out, finding her reading a book in a library, and although she claimed to accept his apology, he knew that his wife remained offended by his gallows humour.

Despite whatever she was feeling by the time the evening arrived, Elissa presented herself perfectly in her role as the Queen, going through the motions of being on his arm, sitting at the head of the table for the feast and mingling with the noble ladies who had been invited to this particular feast. During a speech where Eamon thanked the monarchs for accepting his invitation, he announced to the party that his wife was with child once more. While this seemed to settle the matter of succession in the Arling, everyone would be watching like a hawk as they waited to see whether the Arl and Arlessa's next child would also be a mage. The King and Queen congratulated the couple, enquiring as to when the child would be born and learning that the couple had employed the best midwives and physicians money could buy.

Afterward, they left the banquet and once out of view of the local nobility, they let the façade slip and they walked side by side but not touching as they usually would. Out of the corner of her eye, Elissa watched her husband, who was looking around the place as if he could see something she could not. Despite being married for several months she was still hopelessly unaware of the effects the Blight had on Alistair on a personal level. She could not imagine the months of loneliness that Alistair had endured seemingly under the thumb of her murderous, power hungry bastard of a brother who planned to kill him without a second thought. So it seemed he had resorted to humour to get him through his darkest thoughts and who was she to hold it against him, particularly when she had been held captive by thoughts of her own ordeal.

She had let herself be paralysed by her fears for nearly a year, forgoing any sort of happiness out of a fear that she was no longer worthy of a future. The man beside her had proven her wrong. She reached over and took his hand, an action that seemed to startle him before he smiled.

'I actually hate this place,' he admitted quietly as he looked around. 'It's little wonder the Arlessa never wanted to return here if she could manage it. There was so much blood on the walls but no bodies; they had all been reanimated by the demon.'

Elissa shuddered; she'd rather not hear about it, but if Alistair needed to speak about it then she would not stop him. As King and Queen, they occupied a lonely place where they were all the other had when it came to speaking frankly and expressing their true emotions. She gave his hand a supportive squeeze, indicating that she wanted him to finish.

'I hardened myself to it during the Blight,' he said, 'hid behind humour to the point that nearly everyone thought I was a fool, but the things I saw…' There was a strange note in his voice. 'Maybe I was a fool, refusing to really take the damage going on around me seriously, thinking only of how my life was being affected.'

'No,' said Elissa shaking her head. 'If you didn't really take it seriously you wouldn't be here now, making it right.'

'You think too much of me.'

'And you think too little,' she countered. 'I don't know what you went through, I doubt I will ever fully understand, but you are not a fool and it was not unreasonable to assess how your life was being affected. You could have shut yourself away after it all like I did. Do you think I was happy in those first few months, frightened of everyone around me and even my own shadow?' She huffed a soft, rueful chuckle. 'I nearly walked away from the one person who made me feel real because I was too afraid of what I felt I had become.'

Alistair pulled her closer, letting go of her hand and sliding his arm over her shoulders pressing a kiss to her hair.

'Sooo,' he said after a few moments, 'what do you make of the Arlessa's happy announcement?'

Elissa shrugged. 'I'd be nervous at her age,' she said. 'She's at least forty, is she not? Mama used to say that the later a woman was with child the more dangerous it was.'

Alistair pursed his lips together. 'Well, they won't be short of medical attention, but perhaps Eamon might want to take a leave of absence from court to look after his wife for a few months,' he suggested, giving his wife a pointed look.

She caught his gist immediately and smiled. 'I can't see that he will be able to focus on his duties if he has his beloved wife to worry about.'

'I'll bring up the subject with him before we leave for the north,' he said nodding his head with the definite hint of a smile on his lips.


	11. Plans for the Future

While Eamon seemed to take the news well enough, Elissa had not missed the mistrustful glance the Arl of Redcliffe had given her as Alistair set forth the terms of his temporary retirement from court. The Arl had been initially elated when Alistair had chosen her as his wife; as the sister to the Teryn of Highever, she was ideal given that she was trained for court life and as a good, biddable wife for a high ranking noble. As Aedan correctly predicted, because the law of averages dictated that one day Aedan would get something right, Eamon had expected to be in control of a puppet King and Queen with Alistair and Elissa playing the affable front to his decisions. So it came as a shock to him when the new Queen of Ferelden started developing a voice when Alistair asked her opinion. She stoked Alistair's confidence, encouraging his decisions and challenging him with alternative points of view. Elissa had heard it said that she was becoming as intolerable as Anora in her influence but Elissa knew it not to be true. Not once did she push her opinion nor did she go behind her husband's back as Anora was wont to do. Although the accusations of her overreaching influence upset her, she knew they were words said by a jealous man who had hoped for more by being partially responsible for the crowning of the new King.

Alistair was a good King, his kind fair minded approach combined with his ability to truly empathise with the disaffected commoners meant that the rebuilding process was going a lot faster than it might well have done under Aedan and Anora, who would have cared little for the lot of commoners. All Elissa desired was to see her husband realise his true potential as a monarch and that could only be achieved by putting an end to Eamon whispering in his ear, telling he was wrong because Alistair's approach was different to Eamon's. Ferelden needed changes if it was survive into the future; whether the nobles liked it or not, the Blight had devastated the lands and they needed a King who would lead them forward with vision and energy, not squabble with them over decisions that were not to their personal advantage.

As it happened, Fergus Cousland agreed with them on the matter of reform.

After Redcliffe, the King and Queen continued north, stopping at Kinloch Hold to observe how the Circle was being rebuilt following its annulment, before continuing east to Elissa's home at Highever. Queen Elissa had not returned to the place of her birth since the terrible sack that had seen her parents murdered and left her in a nightmarish existence. But the crowds gathered and the town's folk gave their favourite daughter a rapturous welcome. She dismounted and looked around with tears in her eyes at the sheer exuberance, hands to her mouth as she gazed around the town square she had once feared had been razed to the ground. A top a hill, overlooking it all was the Castle itself, the stronghold of the Couslands that had been their home for since before the founding of Ferelden as a united Kingdom.

A little girl broke free of the crowd and ran to Elissa holding up a little flower for her. Elissa bent over to take and the girl blushed as she told the Queen that she thought she was as pretty as her mama had told her. Alistair joined her as she stood up and the little girl seemed to really shy away when she saw the King, curtseying hastily before running back to hide behind her mother's skirts. Elissa remembered the woman, she had been the baker's wife, she had been young when before the sack but now she looked old and careworn. Everyone looked old and careworn now.

'You're popular,' Alistair remarked with a smile.

She turned to face him with a brood grin on her lips. 'I don't really know what to say.'

He kissed her brow. 'Don't say anything, just enjoy it.'

Once they had made their way through the crowd, greeting anyone who wanted to be greeted, they mounted their horses and continued up to the castle. Elissa tried to focus, but it was so hard; the last time she had seen it, it was burning and she could hear the screams as she fled up a twisty mountain path in nothing more than her night clothes and a blood stained dagger. She shook the memory from her head reminding herself that she wasn't going to be held hostage by the past any more.

Even though she was able to go through the motions easily, bolstered by the presence of the two men she loved the most, her husband and brother, she still couldn't stop seeing the horrific memories. Elissa chanced a glance at Alistair wondering if this was how he had felt as he had looked at the walls in Redcliffe, casually remarking that the blood had been scrubbed from the walls. It was the same here as well; the blood had been cleaned from the halls and pathways and it felt as though her memories were not quite real. It was as though she was walking in a trance and as she settled into Fergus' living room for the private drinks the three of them had arranged for after the formal meal, the flickering shadows caused by the fire did nothing to ease her fears. The shadows of Howe's men had flickered against the stone walls of the Castle, encroaching in on her from every direction. She stood looking around the nicely decorated but simple room that proudly bore a banner with the laurel arms of the Couslands above the fire. The last time she had been in this room was that day, saying goodnight to her father while he had drinks with Arl Howe, blissfully unaware of the extent of his conspiracy with her brother. She had foolishly thought that her young sibling sought nothing more than to marry Delilah Howe and then oust her and Fergus when their father died. How very wrong she had been; she had completely underestimated the magnitude of her brother's ambition.

The door opened, but she was so lost in her thoughts of that day that she jumped and spun around scaring the life out of the serving girl who was bringing in the wine that Fergus had ordered for their drinks. The tray teetered in her hands and then she curtseyed self-consciously. 'Your Majesty, I didn't realise you were here already.'

Elissa took the tray. 'It is quite alright,' she said, her queenly mask sliding back into place. 'Thank you.'

The elven maid curtseyed again before scurrying from the room. Elissa set the tray down and shook her head; the staff hadn't been frightened off her when she had just been Lady Cousland of Highever but then, she had been nothing more than a child and it was unlikely that any familiar faces had survived the sacking. The door opened again and this time it was Fergus, thankfully. Elissa smiled at her brother glad that all formality was now to be left at the door.

Although both the Cousland siblings had been well versed in propriety, and thus used to speaking in titles, it had been a little odd hearing her brother call her 'Your Majesty' as well as being strange calling him 'Your Grace'. However, as the local nobility were present the Cousland siblings had been forced into a formality with each other which grated the two notably close siblings and had they been anywhere other than Highever, it might have led to them shooting disparaging looks at one another. But in Highever, together, they would not dishonour their rank and behaved in a manner their parents had instilled in them from a young age.

Fergus walked forward and swept his sister up into a huge bear hug which she returned gratefully, squeezing her older brother tightly. He let go of her and looked at her in concern. 'Are you alright?' he asked her.

She shook her head, unable and unwilling to hide her feelings from her brother. It was different for him, because although he had lost his wife, child, and parents here, he hadn't been here to see the tragedy unfold. 'I keep seeing everything replayed over and over again,' she said heavily before sitting down, sighing as she put her head in her hands. 'Sorry,' she said a little ruefully. 'I should be glad you've made it back into a home again, our childhood home and I am, it's just…' she shrugged a little helplessly.

'I know,' he said softly. 'Alistair said you might be feeling a little out of sorts.'

Elissa chuckled softly. 'How right he would be,' she agreed, 'and where is my Lord-Husband?'

'Being harassed by Bann Loren about the lack of funds sent to his demesne,' said Fergus.

'Bann Loren can't have suffered that many losses,' she said. 'The horde didn't come this far north.'

Fergus gave his sister a pointed look. 'And when have you ever known Bann Loren to turn his nose up at an opportunity?'

Elissa gazed into the fireplace at the thought of their neighbouring Bann. 'How has… since… you know?' she asked.

The Bann's wife and son had been killed in the sack of Highever. The Bann's son, Dairran, had briefly been her betrothed, an agreement set in writing not a week before the horrific events transpired shortly thereafter.

'The same as he ever was,' he said, a hint of anger bubbling to the surface, 'bitter, twisted and looking for a way to improve his standing, not realising he could do that if he didn't continually shift his alliances. He supported Howe during the Blight and now he claims to support me.' He took a deep breath. 'He married his mistress not a month after his wife and son were killed here and I have half a mind to advise the King to tell that snivelling weasel to stick his requests where the sun doesn't shine.'

Elissa looked at her brother wide eyed with her mouth hanging open. 'Wow, Fergus, just wow,' she said. 'Anything more you would like to add, Teryn Cousland?'

'No, Your Majesty, I am quite done,' he said sitting down, but a smile tugged at his lips as he took a mouthful from his goblet of wine.

-…-

'Completely out of the question,' Elissa protested, looking between her brother and husband as they dropped the plan on her that they had been hatching over a private breakfast the day before the monarchs were due to take leave of Teryn Cousland's hospitality. The two men had several meetings over the course of their stay, some more informal than others since Alistair had told the eldest Cousland of Eamon's sabbatical. 'No, I refuse,' she said, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at them both.

'Why?' asked Fergus, while Alistair shovelled a large fork full of food into his mouth. 'It's an brilliant idea. The Arling needs an administrator and you are in an excellent position to do that.'

'Plus,' said Alistair after swallowing, 'it keeps the City fully under our control as oppose to having someone else have authority over the city we live in. Do you have any idea of the amount of coin that could be saved if we didn't have to mess about with the Crown being in charge of one thing and the Arling in charge of the other?' He smiled warmly at his wife. 'Come on, Elissa, you are more than capable of looking after the city's affairs.'

Elissa fixed Alistair with an icy look. 'It's bad enough that some quarters think I am whispering in your ear without you giving me an Arling to rule until you can decide what to do with it.'

'I have decided what I'm doing with it,' said Alistair. 'The Arling will move to be under the control of our heir, but until we have an heir, it will be under your control.'

She bit her lip, looking between the two most powerful men in the Kingdom, both of whom looked at her with hopeful expectation. 'But the Bannorn will be in uproar about it,' she said in a low voice as if she were taking part in some nefarious conspiracy.

'The Bannorn can get as uproared as they like,' said Fergus, 'but Alistair and I agree that things have to change.'

'You've seen it for yourself, Elissa,' put in Alistair, 'there are so many Banns that while things are getting done, it isn't as quick as it could be because there are too many vying for money and attention.'

'But you can't just strip a Bann of his title, Alistair,' Elissa shot back. 'Fergus, tell him.'

Alistair answered before Fergus could open his mouth. 'We're not planning that,' he said, 'but there are holdings without heirs now, what I am proposing is combining lands to make larger holdings. Some are barely the size of a farmstead, but if several were combined, they would make more crops, more money with less administration.'

'And less voices in the Landsmeet,' pointed out Elissa.

Fergus chuckled. 'You say that as if it is a bad thing.'

Elissa looked uneasily between to the two men. She truly admired her husband cutting a new path for Ferelden but… 'I feel like I'm committing treason or something,' she admitted, pushing what was left of her breakfast around her plate.

'Technically, you aren't doing anything,' pointed out Alistair, 'I'm doing it. The only thing you are doing is worming your way out of administrating the Arling of Denerim because Arl Eamon occasionally likes to accuse you of whispering in my ear over decisions and matters that I believe you have a right to an opinion to, what with you being the Queen and what not.'

'It's not funny,' replied Elissa.

'No,' he agreed, 'it's out of order which is why he has found himself looking after his pregnant wife instead of at court advising me.' He fixed Elissa with a pointed look that told her he would brook no argument. 'The Arling will pass to my heir and in the meanwhile, the Queen of Ferelden will administrate the Arling until such time that said heir reaches their majority or assumes the throne. Upon assumption of the throne, the Arling will then pass to the King or Queen's heir with a capable administrator of the lands should the new heir to the throne be in their minority.'

Impressed that he had seriously thought this through and realising she had been given a Royal Command, Elissa nodded her head in assent. 'Of course, Your Majesty,' she said.

Alistair smiled. 'Excellent, sorted, I told you she would come around,' he said to Fergus.

'That wasn't really want I had in mind,' sighed Fergus to the smirking King.


	12. Unexpected News

_Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing :) To anyone reading BfF, I will probably be finishing this off before I continue with that as I am near to the end with this. My thanks to Darkly Tranquil for beta-ing. _

The Royal Couple returned to Denerim as summer was nearing its end. It was still warm, and would be until mid-autumn, so despite her increased work load, Elissa turned her attentions to readying the gardens for winter so that the rose bushes would remain beautiful and healthy for the next summer. Her gardens had flourished beautifully in her absence; the roses, the head gardener opined, had done particularly well and he claimed them to have been the best blooms for many years. While they still remained in flower, she couldn't help but wish she had been present to see them open for the first time earlier in the year, but duty had called to her and capable hands had completed what she could not.

The Landsmeet was called for late autumn, where Alistair set forth his plans to the Bannorn; those who were to be missing out on enlarging their holdings did not take the news well with mutterings of favouritism being levelled at those who would benefit from the King's largesse. However, it was clear to anyone looking at the situation from an unbiased point of view that those who benefited did so because the added holdings were adjacent to their current lands; there was little point in a northern Bann being granted additional lands in the south, as they would be unable to effectively administrate both holdings, and the whole point of Alistair's reform was to make the Bannorn run more efficiently. By Elissa's reckoning, within the next ten years the Bannorn would have been cut by twenty families – a sad day for Ferelden's politics but perhaps a happier one for common folk who had less nobles to deal with should they walk just a mile from their homes.

As such, the news that the Queen would take over the running of the Arling of Denerim and provide the city with a formal voice in the Landsmeet was greeted with mixed feelings. There were those who had their eye on the Arling as a promotion and were not pleased to have overlooked by the King in favour of his wife until he explained why the Arling was to be formally administered by the Crown.

'Are we to take this as news that Her Majesty is with child?' Bann Alfstanna asked with a warm smile for the Cousland Queen.

'Sadly not,' replied Elissa, 'my physician assures me that I am well and healthy, but the exertion of our recent tour is the biggest contributing factor at this moment.'

Alistair smiled at her, amazed at her poise when speaking about such personal matters before the court. She had spoken with a physician on the matter should any of the nobles start poking around upon their return, but between them, they were certain that there was no real hope of them conceiving. He turned his attention to the gathered nobles. 'I feel that it is prudent that our heir gets practical experience of ruling a demesne before taking the throne and Her Majesty agrees with me on this matter. However, as there is currently no heir to the throne, Her Majesty will step in, which will also set the precedent for future arrangements. She will continue to administrating the lands until our heir reaches their majority.'

There was a mummer of support for the monarchs plan for their heir; too many of them had worried about another inexperienced King after Cailan and then Alistair, although the latter was proving himself to be capable very quickly. While Alistair had a reasonable excuse for not understanding the art of governance, the same could not have been said for Cailan. Yet, despite the general acknowledgement that their King was more than capable it did not fully stem the tides of whispers that the Queen was exerting an undesirable amount of influence behind the scenes; after the experience of Anora, the nobles were uneasy about idea of another assertive, politically active Queen. Yet Elissa did not rise to the whispers, she did not try to defend herself or claim that some were conspiring against her. She continued her work, meeting with various town leaders bar the Alienage who still held Alistair responsible for the death of their elder after Aedan turned a blind eye to the slavers who had been employed by Loghain. The elves could play a long game when it came to holding grudges against their human overlords, still as a gesture of goodwill, Elissa made sure they had all the provisions they needed to continue to rebuild.

But plague returned to the Alienage as autumn turned to winter and Elissa was forced to order the gates be shut to prevent it spreading to the rest of the city. When healers attempted to enter the area to help them, a riot ensured leaving several people dead, healer and elf alike. Alistair took the news stoically, vowing to find some way to bring the disaffected elves around, but Elissa doubted there would be much that could be done as soldiers from the city marched through, purging the small area of its troublemakers. When Alistair had given the order, Elissa had stood by in support knowing there was little else to be done, but nausea threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of all those elves being rounded up and slaughtered. Unpleasant memories of her own experiences rose to the surface unbidden; the day the soldiers arrived at the bandit camp and she remembered the way they had methodically walked through the camp slaughtering every man in sight until one came across her cowering in the corner of wagon…

'Tell them to show mercy,' she said suddenly, blinking away the tears brought forth by the memory.

Alistair and the captain who would lead purge looked up from their discussion on how to proceed. Up until that point, she had stood silent and grim faced as they discussed an operation that would inevitably result in more death and suffering for the downtrodden elves.

She swallowed hard. 'Tell them to show mercy,' she repeated.

The captain looked at her and then to the King, who nodded his agreement. 'Don't harm anyone who does not attack your men and be wary of the children. Only put down the trouble makers,' he said.

The purge was minimal given the scale it could have reached, but Queen Elissa fretted over the matter to the point that Alistair grew concerned about her health. Her skin returned to that unhealthy hue of deathly pale she had worn in the first few months after her rescue and she seemed to grow sick, barely eating and occasionally vomiting.

'You need rest,' he told her one evening as she squinted at a document by the flickering light of the fire. He plucked it from her fingers and she looked up at him as if she hadn't even heard him. 'You need to rest, Elissa,' he repeated when he had her attention. 'You're working too much.'

'You're a fine one to talk,' she replied holding her hand out for the document. 'Please, it's important.'

Alistair turned it over and skim read it. 'It's about overgrown flower beds,' he remarked drily. 'Hardly urgent business critical to the security of the realm.'

She dropped her hand to rest against the skirt of her gown. 'I need to do something,' she said like a woman who was at a confessional. 'We ordered the deaths of all those people, and…' she sighed. 'I know we had to do it, but…'

He took the hand she had dropped in his and caressed her knuckles with his thumb. 'I know, I don't like it either,' he said. 'Maker knows I could come up with every excuse in the world not to be here, but we have to do these things for the greater good of all our people.'

She knew, probably better than he did, of the responsibilities that came as part and parcel of being noble and governing lands, as she had been trained should she be required to take the position of Teryna of Highever. She sighed and looked up into his warm, comforting gaze. 'I'm sorry, I've just been feeling out of sorts.'

'Yes,' he said a little darkly. 'I've been meaning to bring that up.'

Elissa shrugged. 'I don't know what's wrong,' she said a little helplessly. 'I thought it was just all this, taking on the Arling and the purge, but…' she broke off, her other hand pressing at the corners of her eyes in an attempt to suppress the tears that were forming there.

Alistair stepped closer, bringing his arm around her shoulders as she rested her head on his broad chest. 'Hey, it's not as bad as all that,' he murmured as his hand traced soothing circles on her back, relaxing her.

'No,' she agreed. 'Maybe you're right; Denerim won't fall apart if I give myself a few days to catch up.'

'Precisely,' he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

-…-

Rhia, Queen Elissa's Lady's Maid, kept looking at her with a strange expression, as if she were warring with herself about telling her something. As the morning wore on, Elissa, finally tiring of the distraction, responded to the pointed glances. 'If you have something to say, Rhia,' she said, putting down her needlework, 'I would rather you just say it.'

'Your Majesty, I believe I know why you have been unwell these past weeks,' she said, coming to stand in front of the Queen.

Elissa looked at her expectantly. The Maker only knew how badly she wanted to know why she was feeling so unwell.

'I thought about the symptoms, and I realised you haven't had your monthly course for two months,' she explained. 'I think you might be with child. My sister was unwell in her first weeks; tired, sick and a little emotional.'

Elissa opened her mouth to speak, to tell Rhia that it was impossible, before remembering that no one knew that Alistair would have trouble siring a child, not to mention her own concerns about her ability to quicken. 'Really?' she settled for, lest she reveal the secret that could rock their hold on the throne. Her hand went to her belly and caressed it gently, wondering if it could really be true. Could they really be that lucky?

Rhia nodded. 'Yes, if Your Majesty wishes, I could ask one of the healers to confirm it; they are still here in case the plague from the Alienage spreads. I believe they can tell you for certain.'

She thought about it; she was a little nervous of magic and being alone with someone she did not know while in this state didn't fill her with pleasure. 'The King would need to be present,' she said.

'Of course,' agreed Rhia nodding with a smile. 'I would not have expected you to tolerate an examination without His Majesty present.'

'You will arrange it as soon as possible?'

Rhia nodded again. 'Will this afternoon be suitable?'

'Indeed,' Elissa agreed.

Rhia curtseyed to the Queen before leaving to make the arrangements, leaving Elissa sitting on the chaise longue, pondering if it were indeed possible. Her hand ghosted over her belly; for a year she had been used, raped, and violated time and again, and in that time she had never quickened, although she had expected to on more than one occasion. She smoothed her skirts over her lap, her hands shaking. Less than a year into her marriage, in the tender, loving care of her husband had she managed it? Did she carry the next King or Queen of Ferelden despite the seemingly impossible odds? She shook her head, muttering to herself that it was probably the stress of the past few weeks; coming home from their tour, the Landsmeet, and the Purge had left Elissa struggling for breath between each event. So it was only natural she might miss a few of her monthly courses. After all she had missed several, not just in captivity, but also in the first months of her freedom as well. It was nothing to get her hopes up over but it was still best to be checked over now that the opportunity had arisen. With that thought in mind, she got to her feet, putting her needle work away so she could go in search of her husband.

He had lessened his work load so that he might care for her himself while she was unwell, but a King's work could never truly be put on hold. Thankfully, he had cleared his diary of audiences and functions, leaving the day to day running of the court to his chamberlain so he could be found working in his study with little interruption. Alistair was poring over some documents with a book open at the top of the desk that his eyes occasionally flicked to. She watched him with a small smile on her lips, still impressed at the level of dedication he poured into his work, and glad that he was finding it easier to balance his political life and their personal life much better than he had in the first year of his rule.

He looked up when he noticed her hovering in the doorway. 'My love?' he asked her warmly.

She crossed the threshold of his domain, closing the door with a soft click before she slid into the seat opposite him. 'Rhia has suggested a reason as to why I am feeling unwell.'

Alistair put aside the document he had been reading to give his wife his full attention.

'She thinks I might be with child,' she explained, watching the look on his face transform into surprise and then to confusion.

He scratched the back of his neck, his tell-tale giveaway that he was nervous and uncertain. 'What do you think?'

Elissa shrugged. 'I don't know,' she confessed. 'I assumed it would be pretty unlikely, what with you being a Warden and I, well, you know, but I suppose…?' She shrugged again. 'Rhia said that one of the healers would be able to tell us for certain, so I've asked her to arrange a meeting but I would like you to be there.'

He took a deep breath, attempting to process what she had said. 'Pregnant?' he repeated, glancing at her flat stomach.

Alistair didn't really know the first thing about pregnancy. Duncan had told him how unlikely it was but that had been when he was fresh from the Chantry and he hadn't really given it much thought. Women, sex and pregnancy all seemed like distant things that he wasn't sure that he would ever experience despite his freedom from his initiate vows. Along with never expecting to be King, he had never expected to fall in love and become a married man. After that, despite his wish for a family of his own, it still seemed unlikely. He looked at his wife, noting how she fidgeted, twisting her fingers her own tale-tell sign of anxiety.

'When will the meeting be?' he asked her.

'This afternoon.'

Alistair nodded, putting the papers aside and clearing his desk. 'Can't it be sooner?' he asked. 'I don't think I can take waiting that long to know. I won't be able to concentrate on anything with this on my mind.'

Elissa smiled back. 'No,' she agreed. 'Me, either.'

-…-

In the privacy of their rooms, Alistair pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her with a slow, heated intensity. The news was… astounding. She clung to him, matching his kisses with equal passion. They were going to have a child; despite all the odds, a baby was growing in Elissa's belly. He could scarcely believe it. Throughout his life, all the things he had hoped and dreamed for had been denied to him, and now all the things he had thought beyond his reach when he had become resigned to a life of servitude to the Chantry were suddenly within his reach. He had a wife, a home, a child on the way, and despite his reasons for taking the throne, Alistair felt happy. He drew back from the kiss, stroking her jaw affectionately. 'You are amazing,' he breathed.

'I can't claim any genius on my part for this,' she said, smiling widely, her hands squeezing his shoulders.

'Don't care,' he replied as he guided her back to the chaise longue.

She sat down when her legs hit it and scooted back into the corner to make room for Alistair. But instead of sitting beside her, he piled some cushions up then lifted her feet up to rest on them. She giggled at his attentions, in a whirl of happiness at the unexpected news. Worry would come, of course, but it was hard to worry when her husband was so obviously elated, fussing over her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. He perched on the edge of the chaise longue, his hand gently caressing her stomach and gazing at with reverence. He hadn't been able to believe his ears when the mage had smiled and confirmed Elissa was with child; he wasn't sure he'd be able to believe it while her belly remained flat, but already in his mind's eye he could imagine her growing round with their child. It was a thought that filled him with both excitement and apprehension.

'I have no idea what it is to be a father,' he confessed quietly, his gaze focused on her belly.

Her hand covered his, squeezing it gently. 'That doesn't matter,' she said. 'What matters is that you love this child and you do your best. For what I gather, you have an extensive education on what not to do.'

Alistair chuckled, looking up into sparkling blue eyes that radiated with joy. 'It's just that we'll have this little person who is utterly dependant on us, and what if we mess up?'

'I'm sure we'll do just fine,' she told him, before a knock on the door interrupted their private conversation.

It was not often they were disturbed when they were in their private chambers; this particular room had been designated as part of their private living space where they were not to be disturbed unless it was urgent. During their private hours, most matters were dealt with by the chamberlain, who would leave the missives on the desk of the King or Queen for them to attend to once they returned to their duties. Rhia would often join Elissa here when she was alone, the Queen liked the company of her maid when Alistair was detained, but she was the only other person permitted within their private inner sanctum. Alistair and Elissa looked towards the door.

'Come in,' Alistair called, exchanging a quick look with his wife.

Thomas, the chamberlain, entered fingering a folded note. He bowed reverently, first to Alistair and then to Elissa. 'Pardon my intrusion, Your Majesties, but this letter specifically instructs that I place it in your hands alone,' He said to Alistair. 'It is from the Grey Wardens.'

Alistair frowned as he took the folded parchment and dismissed the chamberlain. It contained a second envelope with the seal of the Warden Commander of Ferelden stamped into the wax. The note Thomas had read merely stated that the sealed envelope be handed to Alistair immediately. He broke the wax seal from the letter and read it quickly, his good mood visibly evaporating as he read it.

Elissa tilted her head to the side, looking at him with concern. 'What is it, Alistair?'

'Would you be terribly upset if I told you it was Warden business that I cannot discuss with you?' he said regretfully.

She shook her head; he had explained to her when she had learnt of the Calling, that he could not discuss Warden business with her unless it directly involved the safety of their Kingdom. She accepted and understood that, respecting that he honoured his Grey Warden oaths, even though he was no longer an active member. He sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair.

'I will have to invite Commander Howe here to discuss this,' he said to her.

Elissa bit her lip; she was very nervous of Nathaniel Howe. While she recognised that he was not his father and not a party to his crimes, that knowledge did nothing to assuage her feelings of unease regarding his presence when he was called upon to visit the Royal Palace. However, as he was also the de facto Arl of Amaranthine in addition to his role as Warden Commander, she would be expected to greet him formally as she had done when they visited Vigil's Keep towards the end of the Royal tour, and he would be staying in the Palace as a guest of the Crown. The memory that his father, Rendon Howe, had been a guest in her family's home when he betrayed them forced its way to the front of her mind. She shuddered and Alistair frowned at her reaction.

'I'm not leaving you here alone to go to Amaranthine,' he said.

'No, please don't,' she said, not wanting him to leave her. 'Of course, Howe will have to come here. I will make the arrangements.'

Alistair reached over and stroked her hair, following the movement around to caress her jaw. He smiled softly before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips. 'I'll be back later,' he promised as he rose to his feet. Although he sorely regretted leaving Elissa when all he wanted was to enjoy an hour or so revelling in their happy news, some unpleasant ghosts from the past had arisen, and to secure his and Elissa's future, they had to be dealt with immediately.


	13. Threatening Horizons

Nathaniel Howe arrived one drizzly morning less than a week later, throwing the Queen of Ferelden into a whirl of anxious energy. She had become more and more agitated by Howe's impending visit as the week wore on, no longer finding any joy in the news that she was to become a mother. Instead she worried about having a Howe under her roof, but admittedly so was Alistair, if only because it worried his newly pregnant wife. Nathaniel Howe was a decent man when compared to his father, greeting the King with deference and honour. He arrived alone, forgoing the honour guard his position entitled him to and was promptly shown to the guest quarters before his meeting with Alistair. As there was no Arlessa to greet and the Commander was here on strictly Warden business, Elissa had been able to evade greeting Howe without it being considered a slight; something she was very grateful for as her bout of nerves had gotten the worse of her and she had spent the morning being cared for by Rhia as she was repeatedly sick.

Before the meeting, Alistair checked on his wife, concerned about her health and how she felt about Nathaniel's presence in within the Palace. She had moved to recover from her bout of sickness in their private living room where she was sorting skeins of yarn with Rhia. Her skin had lost some of the clamminess to it and her pallor was much improved from the last time he had seen her. He had planned to stay with her until she was better, but Rhia had shooed him from the room, assuring it was only a bout of morning sickness. Elissa had managed to agree with Rhia and, knowing better than to lock horns with his wife, Alistair departed to ready himself for Howe's arrival.

She was dressed in a formal gown perfect for a day spent in court as oppose to knitting as she recovered; her choice of attire was normally reserved for the semi-formal functions they attended on a near daily basis. Alistair liked this particularly gown and it complimented her creamy complexion, being made of gold velvet and cream fleur de lye taffeta that had been imported from Orlais. Usually when she took a day for herself she wore something simple, a kirtle with a tunic style dress over the top with a simple adornment as the opportunity to dress casually for a day was a rare treat. However, she had said, they were playing host to one of the country's Arls and should he bump into her it would not do for him to see her in attire unsuited to her station. Alistair privately doubted Nathaniel Howe would actually care what she was wearing, but if it made Elissa feel better then who was he to argue?

When Rhia saw him she rose and curtseyed before getting ready to leave.

'No need, Rhia, I was only checking in on Her Majesty,' he said with a smile to the maid, who sat back down and resumed her task of winding loose yarn into a ball.

Elissa smiled warmly at him, looking up from where she knelt on the floor beside the wicker basket of wool. 'I am fine, Rhia assures me she has the ability to scratch a man's eyes out should it come to it.'

Alistair chuckled. 'So long as you are well,' he said. 'I've asked that two guards are placed directly outside these doors for the duration of the Arl's visit.'

'You must think me terribly paranoid,' she remarked despondently as she glanced towards the doors and the guards posted beyond them.

'Not at all,' he said seriously. 'It's your home, you have every right to feel safe here and I will do everything I can to ensure that. You are not to worry.'

She nodded in reflexive affirmation of her husband's words, but the chewing of her bottom lip gave silent testament to her lingering anxiety in spite of his reassurances. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, promising to join her as soon as he was able. His attentions had waned a little since the letter from Amaranthine, right at the moment they should have been celebrating. Elissa couldn't help but feel concerned as he dealt with a matter that he clearly could not tell her about. Whatever it was seemed to weigh heavily on his mind and his sleeping hours were not restful, plagued by the strange nightmares that seemed to afflict Grey Wardens. Although what he saw in his sleeping hours, he adamantly refused to discuss. She did not know much of the Grey Wardens, but what she had seen of the secretive order in Amaranthine unnerved her. She sighed to herself, pondering what could be on the horizon for them as the Maker had not seen fit to give them reprieve for their happy news.

-…-

Commander Howe's news was as every bit disturbing as Alistair feared it would be. He sat drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk, following the sound of the deadly thrum that ignited in his blood as the Commander relayed the detailed reports of Morrigan's return to his Kingdom. The last report, a little under two years ago had been bad enough; it seemed that Aedan had put the vile malificar with child then cast her off, or perhaps she left, Maker only knew. It also seemed there had been a blood magic ritual performed. Nathaniel had unearthed Aedan's personal notes on the Blight when he began turning the Keep upside down for any information relating to the witch.

The whole sordid affair left a vile taste in Alistair's mouth, but he was hardly surprised that Aedan would resort to such measures to preserve his own life should the battle come down to single combat between him and the Archdemon. Alistair ignorance at the time had saved him from some very awkward questions from the Wardens of Orlais on the matter, but that small victory seemed hollow now he had a wife and child to protect. He could not ignore the return of the scion of the Witch of the Wilds' to Ferelden, particularly if it heralded the return of her lover, Aedan. The disgraced former Hero of Ferelden would not let a little thing like the fact that he had been exiled from Ferelden on pain of death stop him from returning if he thought that it would advance his position by following the witch back; he was nothing if not pathologically ambitious.

'We'll have to intercept her first,' he said to Howe, sitting up straighter in his chair. 'And we'll need to set a watch for Aedan, he may pursue her back.'

The Warden Commander nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully; Nathaniel Howe hated Aedan almost as much as Alistair did, blaming the youngest Cousland for the downfall of his family both for leading Rendon Howe to attack the Couslands, and then murdering him in cold blood before the Landsmeet that saw Alistair declared the King of Ferelden, as well as the revulsion Nathaniel felt when Aedan had ordered the destruction of Amaranthine.

'I've already sent some men in search of further news,' Howe replied. 'I thought it better than charging in with a full company of men emblazoned with the arms of the Crown of Ferelden.'

Alistair appreciated the thought, least they frighten the bitch back into hiding. He wanted to go after her himself, to see this properly ended and he made that wish very clear to Nathaniel, who agreed, offering to accompany the King on his mission. 'I will need to make provision for Her Majesty, particularly if Aedan does return.'

'His hatred for his sister has always run deep, even when they were much younger' said Nathaniel, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. 'That dislike may have deepened since her marriage to you. He may believe she is the architect of his downfall.'

Alistair pondered that, remembering the look Aedan had levelled at his sister when he had been stripped of his titles; the depth of anger and malevolence there had shocked him and he had wanted nothing more than to kill the bastard lest he hurt her, and that was before she had become his wife, before discovering the true depth of his feelings for her, before he had realised she would be the woman to carry what would likely be his only child. He leant back in his chair, knowing his suggestion was a poor substitute in the name of her protection. 'I'll ask Teryn Cousland and Teryn Guerrin to remain in court, and with my men, Her Majesty should be well protected.'

Deep, sickening guilt flooded him; for while he knew his love would be comfortable enough in the company of Teagan and Fergus, he had promised his wife to never put her in such a position and that he would personally protect her from anything. In a sense, leaving to tie up this loose end was doing exactly that that; Morrigan could unleash just about anything on them should she desire, including whatever diabolical spawn she had created with Aedan. He didn't want to admit it, but Morrigan was a powerful being with a heart of stone. He toyed with the idea, needing to go and needing to stay. Aedan hadn't appeared yet, but that didn't mean he wasn't lurking somewhere in the shadows, unseen by the men Alistair trusted for protection. Aedan had a knack for slipping out of sight and remaining hidden when it suited him, which was no doubt how he managed to escape to the Free Marches in the first place.

The meeting ended amicably enough and Alistair invited the Commander to dine with him, but afterwards in the silence of his study, Alistair's mind churned, fired by the Taint in his veins. He should have run the witch through the moment he had her alone, but even he had to acknowledge that his younger self probably never would have done so unless she attack him first. He wasn't so honourable in his thinking now, Aedan had brought out the side of Alistair that truly understood the meaning of kill or be killed. Morrigan would die and if Aedan showed up, then Alistair would show no hesitation in putting him down either. There was nothing he would not do to protect his wife and child.

Elissa, along with the Teryns of Highever and Gwaren, joined them for a formal evening meal. To any outside observer, the dinner seemed convivial enough, the King and Queen offered up their opinions, but not once did either of them give any hint as to their personal views, both remaining carefully diplomatic in all their interactions. It did not require any great feat of perception to conclude that something was afoot in the royal household.

Fergus joined his sister for a nightcap while Alistair rounded up things with Nathaniel; he appraised at her critically as she swept across the drawing room, now wearing a gown of blue and gold with her hair hanging in loose waves around her shoulders. He was immensely proud of her as he watched her pour a goblet of wine for him and then water for her; the way she had recovered from her traumatic abduction and abuse filled him with brotherly pride. Although, the display he had seen today had him worried. He had never seen them act with such regal aloofness; even in the most important of functions, they excluded personal warmth together that had been missing today and he could not pinpoint who was the cause of it.

He raised his eyebrow at her in an unspoken question and she smiled at him, taking a sip of the water before she took a deep breath.

'I am with child,' she announced to her brother.

Her stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment because that was not what he was expecting. He hastily put down his goblet and got to his feet. He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her. He remembered the tearful conversation where she had confessed her fears over consummating a marriage not to mention her concerns that she would never conceive a child after her year of captivity. Even he knew that she should have quickened and borne the bastard of one of her tormenters.

'Congratulations, dear sister,' he said, kissing her forehead. 'But that does not explain today's dinner?'

She shrugged. 'I don't really know, it's Grey Warden business and my Lord-Husband will not shed light on the matter. For a man so talkative, he is surprisingly tight-lipped about anything to do with them.'

Fergus pressed his lips together, not liking the sound of that. He had been to Amaranthine on several occasions and despite the stories of them being honourable warriors and conquerors of the Blight, he had been unnerved by the rag-tag band of ruffian who seemed to be far from the warriors of legend. Indeed, some of them were criminals who had been sentenced to death and given to the Wardens as an opportunity to redeem themselves. He had brought it up with the King, and Alistair had said he could not overrule the Right of Conscription on account of the fact that it had saved him from a life time chained to the Chantry. Fergus couldn't argue with that.

He pressed his lips together and Elissa chuckled darkly. 'I feel much the same, Fergus. The more I think on the Wardens, the more I feel disturbed by them.' She twisted her fingers together, lost to her thoughts about the darker elements to being a Warden she knew of; the things she knew about the Wardens were dire enough and she was loathe to consider what other sinister secrets might be kept from her. She cleared her mind, refusing to entertain the idea of Alistair's impending death – even if it would not be for over twenty years. 'We must trust that His Majesty knows what he is doing when it comes to the Wardens, Fergus. He is one of them after all.'

Fergus nodded his head, trusting to his sister's wisdom on the matter. She alone knew the King's mind and she would not lie to her brother.

'For a moment, I feared his coolness was because you were with child,' he laughed.

She smiled softly, her hand going to her belly. 'He's elated,' she said, 'but this news arrived the same day we discovered I was with child. We have not had a moment to enjoy the news as we should.' Tears welled, but her eyes sparked with radiance. 'If someone had told me eighteen months ago I would be Queen and with child, I would have told them they were delusional.' She smoothed her hands over her still flat belly and smiled as if sharing a secret with herself.

The door opened and the Cousland siblings were joined by Alistair and Teagan. Although he was something of a surrogate uncle to Alistair, Teagan was not yet aware of Elissa's pregnancy. The monarchs had decided not to inform the court until Elissa was showing, wanting to enjoy their news for as long as possible without the circus that would inevitably ensue once the announcement of a Royal heir was made. Also, Alistair wanted to speak to the Wardens about her pregnancy to confirm she would not suffer any undue complications due to her carrying a Warden's child. He was still a little at sea with the information, but if he was determined of anything it was to make sure that both she and their child would be safe.

Elissa frowned as she caught the expression on Alistair's face and threw him a curious glance. He stepped over to her. 'Sit down, my love, there is a matter I must discuss with all three of you.'

Knowing better than to argue, given that Alistair was very rarely prone to such seriousness even in the face of severe problems, she sat down, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her lap with a shaky hand. She looked expectantly at her husband, who was very much the King of Ferelden at this moment, an unusual occurrence behind the closed doors of their inner sanctum.

'A matter has come to my attention, which may have severe consequences for all four of us,' he said. 'A matter arose during the Blight which, at the time, I was grateful to be able to claim ignorance of, but now I am not so sure that that ignorance was a blessing after all. That matter is for me and the Wardens to deal with, and I will be leaving with the Warden Commander in the morning to see it finished, but as a consequence there is a possibility that Aedan may attempt to return to Ferelden.'

Elissa twisted her fingers anxiously. 'How certain are you that he will come back?'

'So far, there have been no sign of him,' said Alistair, crossing his arms over his chest, 'but that doesn't mean he isn't here. I believe the three of you, Elissa in particular, will be danger if he attempts to extract retribution for his downfall.'

'If he seeks anyone out, it will be you,' said Elissa, looking up at her husband. 'You prevented him becoming King, refused him Highever, and then banished him from the Kingdom. If anyone is a target for retribution, it is you.'

Alistair looked at her. 'I can handle myself,' he said. 'He's tried to kill me twice before and failed.'

Elissa fixed him with a hard look. 'Which means he could be successful this time,' she shot back fiercely. 'He's been gone a year, harbouring Maker knows what thoughts against all of us and you in particular.'

Teagan inclined his head towards Alistair. 'I fear Elissa might be right, Alistair,' he said seriously. 'You are the one who saw to his downfall.'

'Yes, he will want his revenge on me,' Alistair acknowledged, 'which is why I think Elissa is in particular danger.' He fixed his wife with a serious look. 'It's well known how much I care for you, Elissa. To hurt me, I think he would try to harm you.'

'Then don't leave,' she replied, trying to ignore the cold tingle that was creeping down her spine. 'Let the other Wardens deal with it.'

'I can't,' he said flatly. The set to his jaw told her that he had made his decision. His gaze flickered between the two Teryns. 'I must ask you both if you would remain in residence in the Palace with the Queen while I am gone. There will also be extra men on patrol in the Palace, including within our private quarters.'

Both men murmured their assent, knowing it to be futile to argue at this point with the main concern being that they kept the Queen safe, but Elissa continued to glare at her husband. She had never felt particularly mutinous when it came to Alistair's decisions, but what he was asking of her was too much. How could he just depart on some secret grey Warden mission, with Nathaniel Howe of all people, and leave her to face the possibility of an attack by Aedan. He might not be particularly skilled with a sword, but he was extremely cunning and utterly ruthless. A cold shiver went down Elissa's spine thinking that a food taster might be in order, though it pained her to think she would be putting an innocent person in Aedan's way.

Alistair excused himself from their company, but Elissa was not going to stand for this; she was not going to bow to this without at least expressing her displeasure on the matter. She rose to her feet as the door slammed shut. She turned to the Teryns. 'If you will excuse me, gentlemen,' she said before turning to follow her husband into their private rooms.

Elissa moved at a half run, lifting the skirts of her gown so she would not trip over them and found Alistair making his way to his study, the set of his shoulders a good indication of his feelings on the matter. 'Alistair,' she called after him, 'I really must protest at this. Is it truly necessary to go gallivanting over the Kingdom chasing demons?'

He turned, and the look in his eyes was the same as when he had gotten the news about Amaranthine, they were hard, dark and dangerous swimming with sickening blood lust. The look was terrifying, but as she had not quailed from him a year ago when she had been far more timid, and she would not do so now.

'Given that it is potentially actual demons I will be chasing, then yes,' he said tersely. 'What those two, Morrigan and Aedan, might have unleashed on Thedas is…' He shook his head. 'I shouldn't have turned a blind eye. I have to see this finished. I made a mistake then, and I have to make it right now.'

She understood that, but truly, was it worth it? She put in hands on hips but looked down at the floor, sighing. 'I don't want to feel vulnerable here, Alistair,' she confessed. 'If Aedan has come back, then… what if he comes for me while you're out on the field?'

'Don't do this, Elissa,' he said with a hint of warning, cutting his hand through the air. 'Don't you think I've thought of what it will do to me, leaving you here not knowing if Aedan will target you or me?' He stepped closer to her, his look warm but his jaw was still set in a stubborn line. I have to do this. I need to tie up this one horrible loose end and then no more. I promise I won't go away like this again.'

Elissa dropped her arms helplessness pervading her entire being as she looked at him. She could see it, the pain this was causing him warring in his mind with his need to deal with the legacy of Aedan's sins. 'You aren't responsible for the terrible things he did,' she said. 'You have to stop punishing yourself.'

The look in his eyes changed back to that threatening expression he had worn just moments ago. 'I'm not punishing myself,' he said darkly. 'I'm just doing what I should have done three years ago and putting an end to a vile malificar, and a murderer if he also happens to come my way.'

She wrapped her arms around her torso; to see Alistair's desire for blood whilst talking about her brother… she felt a wave a nausea that had nothing to do with the baby growing inside of her. 'I understand,' she said hollowly. She didn't have a good argument to stop him, the Maker knew she wanted to see Aedan dead and buried where he could cause no more harm, but like this, it felt… wrong, distasteful. She needed time to think, to make sense of all the conflicting emotions that assailed her. She curtseyed to him formally. 'If you'll excuse me, I find myself tiring.' she said, picking up her skirts and leaving.


	14. The Double Edged Knife

_See I haven't forgotten, but as with BfF, I was struggling with writers block. Anyway, one first draft finished (which is terrible) and rewrites to finish this story well in progress, we can get back to it. My main thanks to Darkly Tranquil for reading the terrible first draft and plenty of suggestions on how to fix it up a bit, and also for a few rewrites on the bits that I am just terrible at…. _

Seated in a tavern, nursing a tankard, Alistair found it inconceivable to think that he had once missed this life. In his first year as King, Alistair had yearned for the open road; the feeling of the road beneath his feet and the anonymity that being a simple Warden had given him when he laboured under the misapprehension that he actually had some control over the direction of his own life. Yet looking back, when he took the Joining it was just another way of binding him to a different life and he would never truly be free of responsibility to something greater than himself; his blood bound him to both the throne and a terrifying fate in the Deep Roads. When he should have been entering a joyous time in his life where he might be blessed by the birth of a child he had never thought he would be able to have, he was instead slinking away from his pregnant wife in the middle of the night to put to rest the results of his past failures

At the thought of Elissa, guilt flooded him and he felt like a wretched excuse for a man. He had left the Palace like a thief in the night, both he and Nathaniel in plain armour so that they would not arouse too much attention. The Grey Wardens were still looked upon dubiously in Ferelden; Aedan Cousland had done nothing to allay the country's fear of the enigmatic order that had once been banished for attempting to rebel against Ferelden's King. He had hoped that travelling anonymously and quickly they would catch up with Morrigan before anyone in Denerim actually realised he had gone, but the witch appeared to be able to stay just out of reach of them and he had already been gone a month. Alistair was somewhat surprised that the Royal Guard hadn't began searching for him to drag him back to Denerim, but it seemed Elissa was content to allow him to continue his mission, although her reasons for allowing it were unclear. It was entirely possible that the Queen was so furious that she did not want to see him as he had left whilst still on bad terms with her. Not that he could blame her if she was furious; she would never understand the true horror that Alistair had turned a blind eye to two years earlier and how dangerous the child Morrigan had birthed could be, not just to his and Elissa's future, but to their child's as well. This was his one chance at putting that right despite it being at the possible detriment to Elissa's safety.

He knocked back the rest of his mead as Nathaniel joined him at the nondescript table at the back of the tavern. Alistair had taken to leaving Nathaniel to do all the talking least he blow his cover because while he was in plain issue armour, Alistair was a little too well groomed to properly pass as a solider now. So while it was all well and good being undercover, one wrong move and Morrigan would vanish again when Alistair really wanted her out in the open…

'She'll be alright,' said Nathaniel, mistaking Alistair's dark expression being one born from concern for Elissa. 'Even now, she's tougher than she looks. She always has been.'

Alistair shook his head, having seen Elissa at her most vulnerable he knew the mask that Nathaniel saw was just an act that she had spent a lifetime perfecting. 'Elissa isn't the same woman she once was,' he said, his voice a little dark as he wondered on the connection the eldest Howe might have had to his wife in their youth.

She had never mentioned specific suitors from her past, barring Dairren Loren, although most of his knowledge of Elissa's former betrothed came from Fergus, not that there was much to tell in any case. No one had ever mentioned a former attraction to the eldest Howe, but he clearly knew something of Elissa for him to remark on her so casually.

'Did you know her well before you left for the Free Marches?' Alistair asked the Commander.

'Not really,' admitted Howe. 'My father singled me out as the black sheep quite early and thus I did not often see the Cousland's outside of formal events, although I was required to escort her dinner when the Teryn and his family visited the Keep. At the time, it was the worst honour in the world. I was glad to escape to the Marches where I didn't have to be paraded about after receiving stern words about not embarrassing my father.' He chuckled darkly as he took a mouthful of ale. 'The Queen doesn't like me in Denerim, does she?' he asked as he put down his tankard.

'You're father ordered the murder of her entire family,' Alistair reminded the Commander. 'After what she endured because of that, I do not blame her for feeling trepidation when you attend court.'

'Nor do I,' said Howe. 'What happened in Highever was awful; killing innocent women and children.' He shook his head, lifting his tankard again. 'I found some of my father's papers after Aedan recruited me, most of them were destroyed when Aedan arrived at the Keep, but my father didn't keep everything important in the same place and the Keep has many hidden spots.'

Alistair raised his eyebrows, interested in what Nathaniel had to say on the matter. 'Why did he do it? From my understanding, your father's friendship with Bryce Cousland dated back to the Rebellion.'

Nathaniel nodded his head gravely. 'Indeed, they both survived the battle at West Hill together, as the Teryn used to tell it, he and my father were trapped behind the enemy lines pretending to be dead for several hours before escaping under the cover of darkness in Orlesian gear which nearly got them killed were it not for Leonas Bryland having the wits to recognise them.' He chuckled at the memory of Bryce Cousland telling the tale in such a manner that would draw laughter from anyone at the table. The memory passed and he looked up, his expression grave. 'I assume you are aware that our infamous Hero assisted my father with the attack? Providing him with all the necessary information on how many troops were to remain in Highever, that Elissa was to be governing the Terynir in their father's absence and where all the family heirlooms were kept.'

Alistair cursed under his breath. He was aware that Aedan had been involved with the attack. Elissa had once told him not long after the youngest Cousland had been banished from the Kingdom that she had suspected his involvement in the deaths of everyone in Highever. As he had listened to her speak about it one night, a good few weeks before she really began to let him in, he had wanted to hold her and tell that her brother would never do anything like it again. At the time, she would never have yielded to his touch nor could he promise such a thing either.

'My father wasn't always like that,' Nathaniel continued on. 'He was a good man once, although there was no doubt he was nothing if not ambitious. I always thought he'd find a way to marry Thomas to Elissa, or Delilah to Aedan, I never dreamt he would allow Aedan convince him to slaughter everyone in that Castle. Why couldn't he see it was needless?' Nathaniel looked Alistair in the eye. 'I want Aedan dead, if he ever sets foot in this Kingdom again, then I will confess that if I find him first I will end him.'

'I suppose it isn't worth pointing out that murder is an executable crime in Ferelden,' said Alistair, 'and not even an Arl is safe from that sentence.'

Nathaniel smiled wryly. 'With all due respect, it would be a Warden matter and I would only be answerable to my superiors.'

Alistair nodded sagely. 'Like the Senior Warden of Ferelden?' he asked his tone of voice just as wry as Nathaniel. 'Who just also happens to be the King of Ferelden?'

Nathaniel chuckled heartily. 'This one could continue well into the night. Am I not your superior so far as Warden business is concerned?'

'Depends on the business,' said Alistair smirking a little bit, enjoying watching the Commander squirm a little. 'After all, we are a long way from Weisshaupt.' Then he shook his head. 'You might think I have more cause than anyone to want him dead, but I've killed a man in revenge before and it didn't make me feel better in the end. However, I will run my own sword through Aedan to protect Elissa but if anyone gets to him first, well, I certainly won't begrudge them. His is a death sentence if he returns to Ferelden, and therefore, justice will be served.'

Nathaniel looked at him surprise, lowering his tankard back the table unsure what to make of the man beside him. As they had travelled across Ferelden, he had seen different sides to the man who was fast becoming a legend. Nathaniel had expected to be dealing with a vengeful King intent on retribution on behalf of his wife. But instead, more often than not he saw a man who did nothing but consider the future, with his only desire being to rectify a mistake from the past even though that mistake had saved his life. Although Aedan had performed the blood rite with the witch, it had only been to save his own measly life in case it came down to single combat between him and the Archdemon; Nathaniel thought on balance that it had been Alistair that truly benefitted from that rite. Neither man had ever confirmed who slew the Archdemon, but if Nathaniel were to put a bet on it, he would bet it had been Alistair given that Aedan didn't crow to the heavens that he had killed the beast that had haunted the nightmares of every Grey Warden for a year.

There were those who said the King was nothing more than a puppet with Eamon and Elissa pulling the strings, but Nathaniel certainly didn't believe it as he watched the man finish his drink and leave for bed. For a moment, Nathaniel pitied the witch that they were hunting because against Alistair, a Warden and Templar both, she didn't stand a chance against the man now. Then he remembered the evil she had created with Aedan and all his sympathies vanished, wishing only to see the bitch and her spawn ended for the greater good. After that, he'd find a reason to head north to the Marches if Aedan didn't show up in Ferelden first. He smiled as he downed the rest of his drink, revenge might not be in the blood of the King, but Nathaniel had nothing to live for; what better cause than to avenge his father's downfall to that little bastard. He tossed a few coins on the table and headed up to his own bed, a plan already starting to formulate in his mind.

-…-

Elissa did not like the Palace without the constant presence of Alistair. She had never fully appreciated how much her husband's energy made the Palace warm and inviting. The quietness and long shadows in the rooms she called her home made even her favourite places of solitude feel unwelcome and threatening. Everything made her feel on edge; Alistair's prolonged absence, the threat of Aedan possibly making a move on her and the constant presence of men she did not know shadowing her wherever she went. Despite being furious when she had discovered he had left without a word under the cover of dark with Nathaniel Howe, her anger had waned so that now she only longed for his safe return. Leliana's convenient return to the Palace had left her with a greater understand of her husband's ire where Morrigan was concerned. The woman sounded despicable; it was little wonder that Aedan had shown interest in her if even half of what Leliana was true.

As Elissa stood on the balcony in the cool air as the first flakes of snow began to fall, she hoped that she would not be alone for much longer. She sighed heavily and turned to go back into her chambers, seeking out the fire as her stomach rumbled for food. As far as Elissa was concern, that was the only improvement in her life at the moment. Her appetite had slowly returned over the past few weeks and it seemed to be making up for lost time. Leliana had remarked one evening that she was now on a par with Alistair's appetite, which she knew not to be true; no one could eat like that man. She smiled fondly before looking up to see the pile of paperwork she had brought with her from her study, slightly despairing at the size of the pile.

The Bannorn had recently gotten wind of the fact that their King was not in residence and they were getting agitated. With the Blight and the Civil War only a few years behind them, the country needed stability to continue its recovery and they were eying the empty throne with trepidation. In the last ten years, Ferelden has lost two Kings and they weren't ready to lose another, in particular one who was successfully guiding them through the reconstruction in the wake of the most horrific war of the last four hundred years.

Her stomach grumbled for a second time and she looked towards the door torn between allowing herself to be shadowed by the guards down to the kitchen or to sneak off through the hidden passages. Running from the Royal Suite to different parts of the Palace, the hidden corridors had been built to allow Ferelden's first family the ability to escape should the Palace become occupied by enemy forces; it was how King Brandel had escaped with his young daughter Moira in tow when the Orlesians finally managed to take Denerim. However, Alistair had discovered that they were really good for sneaking down to the kitchens without a battalion of men on his heels. Thus, Elissa chose to use the route as her means of getting down to the main kitchen. She decided that one good thing was that if she was supposed to be in one place but had secretly moved to another, anyone who wanted to target her would do so where all her guards were waiting for such an event to occur. In theory, she would be safer in the kitchen than where she was meant to be.

The kitchen looked warm and inviting; with the cook having realised that Elissa was making frequent visits she often left out slices of cake or boiled sugar sweets that she seemed to be craving. She hummed tunelessly under her breath as moved around the kitchen putting together a plate of her favourite things, glad to be away from the stifling pressure that came from being trapped in her study nearly all day, every day as she handled both her work and Alistair's. After a month of it, it was little wonder that he hadn't wanted to be King in the first place – in her role as consort she did not have to put up with quiet so many unreasonable and frivolous requests. Her appreciation of Alistair's ability to handle the Bannorn had significantly increased, and perhaps Eamon's early input had helped Alistair get on his feet more than either of them truly realised. Perhaps she had been too harsh in her judgement of the elder statesman when it had come to the crunch several months ago.

She wouldn't have minded a bit of extra experience at the moment in smoothing down the concerns of the Bannorn because she knew her reassurances where not helping particularly when some still believe it was her pulling the strings behind the scenes. A sigh escaped Elissa's lips as she sucked on one of the lemonly syrup sweets that the cook had left out for her. She looked at her plate, bread, meat, cheese but there was something missing. She headed over to the larder and pulled open it open so that see might rummage around for a delicacy that had arrived from Orlais – chocolate. Her father had often returned from his travels there with a few bits for her and her brothers to squabble over when they were young but it was her that had grown up with an enduring desire to eat the stuff regularly. The cook always left it hidden, just in case anyone else were to visit the kitchen, but Elissa knew where it was and the cook knew it was Elissa who took it.

As she laid her hand on the sweet, the pottery plate behind her tumbled to the floor shattering into a thousand pieces, spilling the lemon sweets everywhere. Elissa spun around and looked around at the kitchen that had seemed so warm and inviting but now it was not; the torches in the doorway had somehow blown out but what was more concerning was the crossbow bolt on the floor surrounded by the shattered remains of the plate. She glanced towards the store cupboard, back to the door, then to the plate before her eyes rested on the kitchen knives. Mindful that she had left her dagger in her rooms, she reached over and pulled one of the larger handled knives from its block all the while wondering what under the Maker's Sun had made her believe she was safe here? She wasn't safe anywhere, given that her position of Queen probably made it more fun for those who had a mind to kill her.

A hand wrapped around her middle and over her mouth before she could even scream, causing her to drop the knife as she was dragged into the darkness of the wine cellar behind her – why hadn't she considered that an attack would come from there? She recognised the hand clasped over her mouth and nose, the scent hadn't changed in the year he had been gone and neither had the tone of his voice changed as he whispered in her ear with venom.

'Well, dear sister, what are you doing down here alone?' he asked as he pushed her down the short flight of stairs in front of him before kicking the door shut. 'No one knows you're down here do they? You're little guards are all stood around upstairs thinking you are in your rooms, working on whatever pithy complaints have come in from the Bannorn like a good little Queen should.'

She couldn't see anything but his outline in the dark, but she got to her feet and began reaching out around her for something else that she could use to protected herself with.

'No pleasant welcome home, Elissa?' enquired Aedan as he came down the steps he had just thrown her down. 'A bit impolite of you, didn't Eamon teach you how to greet a Teryn when he returned?'

She could hear the mocking in his voice, the anger mixed in and she could imagine the blaze in his eyes as he advanced on her.

'Or are you incapable of doing anything without Eamon's say so?' He caught up with her and he grabbed her throat. 'Because the rumours aren't true about you, are they, that you are the power behind the Throne? I've seen you Elissa, I've watched you and you are nothing but a pathetic child happy to play the whimpering consort to your precious King.' He tightened his grip on her. 'And where is that precious King of yours now? What a delight it will be when he finds your broken body in the bed you share?'

As the air started to squeeze from her lungs, Elissa brought her fingers up to his wrist and she dug her nails in and dragged them as hard as she could over the taunt skin on his wrist. Aedan let go, hissing before he back handed her in rage, sending her tumbling into some wine barrels and to the floor. She cried out, forgetting that her brother possessed the unnatural strength of a Warden. In her idle hours, she had speculated what it would be like to see Alistair unleash that strength, as she had never had the opportunity to see him fight in a real battle. She had never expected to experience it first-hand like this, at the mercy of her monster of a brother.

'Why are you doing this?' Elissa asked quietly, trying not to let the fear in. 'Why couldn't you have just stayed gone and left us in peace?'

'And let you get away with taking my life from me?' asked Aedan. 'You took everything from me, sister, even before you realised you were doing it. Father's favourite and Mother's little protégé while all the while I was left behind in the shadows with no chance of being anything more than the Teryn's third born child, not even the spare!'

Elissa looked up at Aedan's silhouette. 'They loved you,' she replied, 'they wanted you to make something of yourself outside the confines of the Cousland duty.'

She had asked her father once, why he was not as strict on youngest of the Cousland siblings particularly after rumour had reached them that Aedan had put one of the serving girls with child. Her parents had never been overtly strict, but they had higher expectations of their heir and for their daughter to marry well and make a good marriage. Had they still be alive today, it could be argued that she could not have done better for herself in terms of position or happiness.

'Oh yes, and what was I supposed to do? Join the Chantry and become of drooling Lyrium addled Templar like your husband? Or become of Grey Warden of my own free will and subject myself to this constant barrage of song, driving me to seek, seek, seek?' he spat. 'Or become the Teryn of Highever and show the world what a third child can do, what he can become?'

'You've showed the world what a third child can do,' she said hoarsely. 'You ruined the lives of every single person you have touched all because you didn't understand what our mother and father were trying to do for you.'

He walked over to where she was sat, and dragged her to her feet, his hands going to her shoulders and clamping down hard on her. 'I should have been King, my crowning glory for what I did to save this pathetic backwater of a Kingdom. I led them, not that pathetic bastard that you look up to. They all followed me but he gets all the glory and the Throne, and to add insult he makes you his Queen! You should have died in that attack, cut down just like father was, and mother.' He pushed his sister against the wall. 'He made her beg, our mother, made her kiss his feet as our father died beside them begging for mercy,' he told her with a hiss. 'Imagine what they would have done to you?' He chuckled as his hands came back to her throat.

Fear flooded Elissa as Aedan began pressing down on her windpipe again, but instead of yielding to the instinctive panic that assailed her, she forced herself to think. During her lessons on self-defence from Alistair, he had taught her that the key to survival in a fight was to remain in control and to be aware of your surroundings at all times. Focusing on what he had taught her, she remembered the hunting knife Aedan habitually carried on his belt; she knew it was there because she had felt it poke inter her back when he grabbed her from behind at the beginning of his attack. Dropping her hands so that he would assume she was weakening and lower his guard, she reached out and grabbed hold of the hilt of the knife and then swiftly drove it up into his arm. Aedan bellowed in surprise and indignation, his hand coming away from her throat to grab at the wound she had inflicted.

'You little whore,' he yelled as she ducked away from his grasp.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the exit of the cellar. If she could just make it to the door, she would have a chance to flee and alert the palace guards. But as soon as she made a move towards the door, she was knocked flying by another still blow from her brother, sending her reeling towards the bannister. She knew she should have dropped the knife, but she was determined not to give Aedan any additional advantage, so she held onto it even as she crashed painfully into the staircase, the sudden impact driving the blade into her body just below her ribs. Elissa gasped in shock and pain as she withdrew the knife from her body; in the sliver of light emanating from the kitchen above, she could see her blood coating the length of the steel blade, running off the point to drip to the floor at her feet.

Aedan chuckled at the sight of it, seeing the blood dripping to the floor, the rapidly spreading stain on her clothes, and the horrified look on his sisters face, her mouth twisted in a grimace as she comprehended at what she had done to herself. 'You've saved me half the job,' he said before he lunged towards her.

Driven by fear and desperation to protect herself, she raised the bloodied knife just as Alistair had taught her as Aedan lunged at her, and drove it into the side of his neck as hard as she could. The sensation of driving a blade into flesh, the feeling of steel grating against bone and the surge of hot blood that poured out over her hand as she withdrew the blade, was something she had never discussed with Alistair during their lessons and it left her shocked and horrified, more so because it her own kin that she had struck. Aedan staggered back from her with a surprised grunt and fell back on the floor like an Orlesian marionette with its strings cut. Lying on the floor in rapidly expanding pool of his own blood, he feebly attempted to put his hand over the wound to staunch the flow, but it was clearly a vain effort. For a few scant moments, Aedan gasped and twitched as the life ebbed from his body, then he went limp as his struggle to cling to life ended.

Exhausted and weakened from blood loss herself, Elissa expended the last of her strength to drag herself away from her brother's body and the expanding pool of blood around it. She made it to the stairs and, using the bannister to haul herself upwards, dragged herself towards the light of the kitchen and the possibility of assistance. As she laboriously ascended the stairs, her who body shook from the shock, exertion, and blood loss of her struggle for life; she grimaced with every step, one hand pressed grimly to the oozing wound in her belly, idly wondering in her pain induced haze if the small miracle of life had survived the onslaught that Aedan had subjected her too.

'I'm so sorry,' she said to the babe. 'I should have… I'm so sorry…' Her mind drifted to Alistair as she collapsed back into the stairs, another whispered apology to the man she loved and then nothing.


	15. Recovery

Alistair galloped into the Palace courtyard and dismounted before a groom could come forward and take the reins. He turned, marching for the doors, barely hearing the herald announce his return. Hot on his heels was Captain Daniels, the upstanding head of the Royal Guard. He was a grim faced man, and Alistair had known trouble was brewing the moment the man had set foot in the tavern that he and Nathaniel were staying between Denerim and Amaranthine, as the travelled north to the Dragonbone Wastes. For a moment, Alistair had thought his wife had had enough of his expedition, but to his horror he was informed that Teryn Cousland had given the order to summon the King back to Denerim, as the Queen's life hung in the balance.

He hadn't even hesitated when Daniels had said Elissa was dying, he just picked up his sword, mounted the additional horse they had brought for him, and left without a word to anyone. He had travelled through the night, his guard struggling to keep pace as he raced home to be by her side. Even now he did not stop as he marched through the Palace, the crowds of servants and courtiers parting for him like the Waking Sea had done for Andraste as he made his way to his chambers. He caught the occasional expression of the palace staff; grave, sad expressions and shaking their heads in pity. Confronted by the grim faces of his staff, he stopped praying for her survival, instead he silently pleaded for her to live long enough for him to tell her how sorry he was, that he had been trying to protect her from a threat that was greater than either of them could ever imagine, to tell her how much he loved her and already loved the child that would now never be.

Alistair kept his eyes forward, willing himself not break as he made his way to his quarters; she wasn't dead yet and she already had the best healers to care for her thanks to the quick intervention of Leliana, who along with Rhia, had found her not long after the attack. The corridor to his private quarters was full of courtiers and servants all waiting for news of the Queen. The moment he was spotted the hum of whispered conversation fell dead and as he walked through the crowd, again they parted, their expressions solemn and sad; Elissa was dearly beloved in the Palace as she was widely regarded as a fair, kind mistress. Her loss would be grieved deeply by everyone in the Royal household. As he reached the doors, he wished he had the words to give them comfort, but there was nothing he could say to make things better, for them, or for himself. He had nothing, only the burning desire to look upon her one last time with breath still in her body.

In the privacy of the Royal apartments, it was eerily empty and silent; the air within in his private inner sanctum taking on a funereal quality that was somehow worse than panicked clamour of the rest of the palace, where everyone chattered until he approached, and then looked at him with pitying faces as he passed. At the other end of the corridor the door to his bedroom opened and Rhia emerged carrying a bowl of steaming water. She paused when she saw him and managed a curtsey despite being laden with the bowl and towels.

'Your Majesty,' she said gravely, head bowed.

'How is my wife?' he asked, his voice cracking with dread at the answer awaiting him.

Rhia looked up. 'Solana is certain that Her Majesty will wake,' she said with a smile. 'But she is still sleeping for now.'

He took a deep breath as profound relief washed over him; his wife would live. Then another thought struck him and he was assailed with grief and guilt once more. "And the babe?" he asked.

'Solana does not know, it will be some days before we know if the babe survived, Your Majesty,' she said.

He nodded his head. 'Thank you, Rhia,' he said quietly. 'For everything.'

'You are quiet welcome, Your Majesty.'

Although he had spent the entire frantic trip back to Denerim flaying himself with speculation over the extent of her injuries, nothing could ever have prepared for the sight of her battered body lying motionless on the grand bed in their chambers. Her beautiful face was marred with cuts and abrasions, one eye so badly swollen it was sealed shut. Her neck and throat were purple with bruising from where that bastard had attempted to squeeze the life from her. Her knuckles were covered in scrapes and one wrist was in a splint from where it had been broken. Thankfully he could not see the stab wound to her chest, but he could imagine it there, sapping the life out of her. He sat down beside her on the bed, his armour creaking loudly enough that he half expected her to wake and complain about the noise. She didn't and Alistair sighed heavily as he unbuckled his gauntlet. He unceremoniously discarded it before reaching over to caress her cheek.

'I am so sorry,' he whispered, a tear forming in his eye. 'I should have stayed.'

He bowed his head, wondering how she would ever forgive him for leaving her to face Aedan alone; he wondered how he would ever forgive himself for leaving her. Alistair moved closer to her and pressed a kiss to her lips. 'I love you, Elissa,' he whispered against her. 'Please forgive me.'

Behind him, the door opened and he looked up to see Leliana standing there looking pale and wan.

'Alistair,' she said quietly from the doorway, pausing as if unsure if she should intrude on such a private moment. After a moment's hesitation, she entered the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

'Where were you when this happened?' he asked her quietly, no small amount of anger lacing his words. He had asked Leliana to come here and protect Elissa from Aedan as she knew as well as anyone what the man was capable of. When she didn't answer he deflated a little, he knew it was not Leliana's fault and she had done her best. 'I'm sorry, Leliana,' he said turning away from her.

'You need to get out of that armour,' she said softly. 'I'll watch over her until you return.'

-…-

Elissa remained unconscious for several more days, and although Alistair resented it, the Kingdom still needed his attention and some of the Banns were not keen to wait on the Queen's recovery before hounding him with the requests they had been holding onto since they learnt of his absence. However, first on his list was dealing with the naturally angry Teryn of Highever who had been building up steam since Alistair had returned. So far as Alistair was concerned, Fergus had every reason to be as angry as he was; one sibling was dead and the other's life hung in the balance. Alistair felt wretched enough he would have let the other man punch him for endangering his beloved sister, but Fergus' anger was cold and palpable in a way that was utterly terrifying when compared to the barely restrained rage of Aedan.

To say that Alistair felt utterly wretched did nothing to convey his feelings on the matter and things did not improve when Alistair received word to say that Morrigan had escaped through an Eluvian mirror with her demon spawn where none could follow her. On receiving the news, Alistair was assailed by a wave of such furious anger and frustration that he swept everything off his desk, hours of work reduced to nothing in pools of ink at his feet.

He had left Elissa for nothing. Morrigan was gone and so was her demon spawn – what in the Maker's name was he to do now? Call the Wardens in Orlais and tell them what he had allowed to happen or pray that the realm beyond the mirror would keep her trapped until the end of time so that she could never act against him, Elissa, or their heirs.

Not that having a natural heir looked probable now. Solana still didn't know if the babe had survived Aedan's attack and given the extent of Elissa's injuries even he had to concede it was very unlikely. He sighed, sinking back into his chair, surveying the mess he had made on the floor beside the desk. The initial surge of anger past, the pile on the floor seemed a fitting tribute to his life - a smouldering pile of wreckage wrought from the best of intentions.

There was a knock at the door and his chamberlain entered the room, bowing before the King. 'Your Majesty,' he began, stalling when he saw the ink stained pile of parchment. 'What in the Maker's name?'

Alistair frowned. 'It is nothing for you to be concerned about,' he said, effectively closing the subject immediately.

The chamberlain cleared his throat. 'As you wish, Your Majesty,' he said. 'Shall I have someone clear it up?'

Alistair got to his feet. 'That won't be necessary, I shall see to it myself,' he said. 'Now what was it you actually wanted?'

'Ah, yes, Her Majesty has awoken,' he said. 'Solana has already attended to her and is satisfied she is well.'

'Why was I not alerted the moment she awoke?' asked Alistair, his voice a little harsher than he might have intended.

'Teryn Cousland felt it prudent that Solana check for any problems before calling for you,' said the chamberlain, he looked nervous twisting his fingers. 'I confess that I did not agree to the Teryn keeping this from you, but he only saw fit to tell me once Solana had attended the Queen.'

Alistair shook his head, knowing that it was likely that Fergus was trying to undermine him in revenge for what had happened to Elissa. 'Leave the Teryn to me,' Alistair said as he stepped over the mess he had made to leave the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

-…-

Fergus was perched on the edge of the bed, holding Elissa's hand as she recounted the death of her younger brother to her elder brother. She squeezed his hand tightly, trying to convey that she was recuperating, but her older sibling was livid that his sister had suffered another traumatic attack. Listening to her, he could not help but be glad that Aedan was gone; he still suffered from the acutely from the loss of his family, not just that of his beloved mother and father, but also that of his wife and child. He would lie for hours in his empty bed thinking of Oriana and her beautiful lilting voice or of Oren and all the things he should be learning and doing as heir to Highever. Aedan had left Fergus with an utterly empty life, devoid of anything but painful memories to keep him company during the lonely months in the Castle where they had been murdered. Fergus's only salvation was his sister and Aedan had just tried to victimise her all over again. Why he had been so intent on destroying his family, Fergus did not know, did not understand. They had all been loved by their parents and to hear Elissa recount what Aedan had said to her made him sick to his stomach. Aedan could have had anything he wanted and their parents would have made it happen if it was in their power, just as they had done with himself and Elissa. He did not blame his brother for wanting to rule the Terynir, but his actions in trying to prove himself superior had only served to highlight how inadequate he was for the role.

After Elissa had been stabilised by Solana, Fergus had dealt with Aedan's body. He had seen to the cremation of his brother personally, giving him the rites befitting the child of a Teryn, even if he had been a self-serving, traitorous psychopath; he watched until nothing remained but ashes, determined to ensure that Aedan was truly gone and could cause their family no more pain. No one questioned his motives for standing in the ice cold gardens until the flames died down, nor did anyone stop him as he threw the ashes to the wind, hoping that in some way he could erase Aedan from memory. Protocol demanded that Aedan should even have been interred in Highever, but Fergus was loath to let Aedan's last human remains corrupt the memories of their parents, his beloved wife and child or the honour of the Cousland name.

As she finished he got to his feet and began pacing the room.

'I'm going to kill him,' he hissed angrily.

'He's already dead,' replied Elissa, but she didn't think of a moment that Fergus meant Aedan.

Fergus turned to look at her, his eyes burning fiercely. 'Not him, your husband.' The Teryn spat the word like an epithet and Elissa drew herself up as much as she physically could to remonstrate in her husband's defence.

'You will do no such thing, Fergus,' she replied, fixing him with a glare. 'Speaking of the King, has he returned yet?'

'Of course he has,' replied Fergus, still glaring, looking ready for murder.

'And why is he not here?'

'You can't tell me you want to see him after what has happened to you?' said Fergus, his ire rising fast. 'You could have died and it would have been his fault. I told you that I would kill anyone who brought harm to you and…'

'This was not the result of my husband,' she said, cutting across her brother's tirade and indicating her whole body. 'He did not do this to me, Aedan did.'

Fergus seemed to deflate a little. 'It would not have happened if he had been here.'

Elissa shook her head. 'You don't know that,' she said quietly. 'You can't blame him for this.'

'I wanted to hit him,' said Fergus, 'and by the Maker, I actually think he would have let me.'

Elissa chuckled softly. 'That's Alistair for you,' she said. 'Please, Fergus, would you track him down. I wish to speak to him.'

The Teryn of Highever nodded in defeat and turned on his heel, leaving his sister to fall back into the pillows with a wince. She rubbed her side, pondering if the child that had been growing within her still lived. While Solana had confirmed that she would recover fully, she had not done the same about the babe, although she had checked her abdomen and nodded for herself in a slightly cryptic manner. Elissa drew her knees up, wanting to curl up into a ball and just have a definitive answer, no matter how bad it might be, but patience was a virtue and she would have to wait lest there be any hasty decisions.

The door opened softly a little while later. Elissa looked up to see her husband hovering on the edge of the room, anxious and waiting for her to acknowledge him. She smiled, holding out her hand to bring him to her side, the mere sight of him filling her with warmth and hope; it was a more powerful balm to her wounded spirit than any healing spell.

'Alistair,' she said softly as he closed the door.

He walked over slowly and the moment their hands touched, she entwined her fingers with his and squeezed hard. He returned the pressure as he sat down in the space where Fergus had sat previously. 'My love,' he said, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

She could see tears just starting to form in his eyes, so with her other hand she reached up to cup his cheek. She gazed at him, seeing a man who had been broken by fear, guilt, and remorse. Despite her injuries, she pushed herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. Alistair hesitated before returning the embrace, although he handled her gently, wary of her condition and curbing his extra strength. The feeling of his powerful arms around her reminded her why it was that she felt so safe with him in the first place and she relaxed into him.

'I am so sorry,' he murmured against her ear. 'I thought he'd come for me.'

Elissa pulled back from him and stroked his cheek. 'He did,' she said. 'He wanted you to find my dead, broken body in our bed. That was to be his ultimate revenge on you.'

Alistair closed his eyes against the thought, she had been broken and he had looked on at her for days on end watching the bruises slowly fade. Finding her dead in the bed where they had created so many sweet memories together would have destroyed him in one fell blow. He swallowed hard against the bitterness he felt. 'You killed him,' he said finally, in a quiet voice.

'He attacked me,' she replied simply, as if that explained everything. Her unrepentant reply made him look up in surprise and she read the look in his eyes instantly. 'You showed me how to fight back if I was attacked or didn't Aedan count?' His gaze turned hard, not quiet recognising the bruised woman in his wife's place and he looked away from her. 'Or did you want to kill Aedan yourself?' she asked quietly.

Alistair looked up sharply. 'No,' he said, his voice rising an octave. 'I just didn't want it to be you. It could have been anyone and I would have been happy. Anyone but you. I didn't want to you to have to carry that burden.'

Elissa looked down at her hands, briefly imagining what they had looked like soaked in Aedan's blood. 'I've killed before,' she said quietly, her memories going back to the fall of Highever three years prior; the sight of her hands covered in the hot blood of her first victim and the coppery tang of it tingling her nose. She clenched her fingers shut and looked up, meeting Alistair's concerned gaze and briefly forgetting what it was she was to say. 'In Highever, when they attacked.' she said when she got her voice back. 'It was pure luck really given that I was never formally trained.'

'That's not why I didn't want it to be you,' he said softly. 'I didn't want you to have to suffer from this act. He was still your brother and to some degree, it's also why I kept Fergus here, so that he could act in my stead.' He shook his head. 'Aedan was my responsibility; I should have dealt with him once the Archdemon was dead.'

She shook her head. 'I doubt you had it in you to be that callous, Alistair, not then anyway.'

'How do you know?' he asked her sharply.

'Because it isn't in your nature; you're kind and you're good and you are nothing like Aedan,' she said, before pressing a reassuring kiss to his lips.

'You're other brother is going to kill me,' Alistair said gloomily, recalling the glare Fergus had levelled at him before seeing his wife today.

'He's just angry. I'm sure it'll pass.' she replied, her casual tone effectively dismissing his concern.

He stood up, gazing at her with surprise. 'You seem different,' he said.

She took a deep breath. 'For the first time since I arrived here, I don't feel like a victim,' she confessed. 'He's been looming over me for a long time, and when he came for me I fought back and I won. I don't know how long this feeling will last, but, right now, it's all I have.'

'You haven't been the victim for a long time, Elissa,' said Alistair softly. 'It's time you started realising that.'

-…-

Elissa mostly remained in bed for a further month under the prescribed care of Solana. A week after the Queen had awoken, the mage declared that the babe had survived the attack and Elissa's unconscious spell and continued to grow strongly within her. The mage had been using her magic to help Elissa's body sustain the baby in the hope that the small miracle of life had managed to cling on, despite not knowing whether the child had survived. Solana felt well rewarded for her efforts when she had sensed the baby once again. Although the monarchs were happy to receive the news, they did not revel in it; in fact, they began growing apart a little with Alistair spending more and more time away from her. She knew he was punishing himself for what had happened and due to her being on strict bed rest for her health and the health of her unborn babe she could not pursue him into the depths of the Palace and have it out with him once and for all. Eventually she was allowed out of bed but she remained confined to her chambers, unable to walk further than the door without weakening.

But as she got stronger and physically better, she began to be plagued by the nightmares of that night and the violence she had inflicted on another. She began to understand why Alistair had not wanted this for her and grief welled in her heart for her actions. Regardless of everything that had happened, she had still brutally killed her brother with the only thought in her mind being to save herself and her child. Alistair had been trying to protect her from the guilt that he somehow knew would overcome her. Now, in her darkest hour, he was further from her than ever before.

Perhaps, she thought, as she stood in her favourite solar that looked out over her rose gardens, this was what Aedan wanted; not to kill her, saying those things about wanting to watch the life die from her eyes had been just to scare her, but to drive a wedge between her and Alistair. To isolate her again and push her back into the oppressive darkness that had held her captive. Aedan was certainly cunning enough to know which buttons to push to ensure a result that would lead to both Alistair and Elissa being deeply unhappy.

Oh Maker, why hadn't she seen it before?

Behind her the door opened and she glanced behind her to see Alistair enter, closing the door softly behind him.

'We have to stop this,' she said without preamble, her gaze going back to the gardens that she loved so much. 'Maybe this was what he wanted; for us to be at odds, so that even in death, he wins.'

She heard Alistair walk further into the room and sit down on the chaise longue behind her. Having stood there a while, she could feel her strength waning and she reached out to lean against the window frame for support.

'I let you down,' he said quietly.

Elissa glanced behind her to see Alistair with his head bowed, looking so thoroughly miserable. She wanted to reach out to him and make him understand that this was not his responsibility but she sensed he needed to say whatever was on his mind. She looked back out over her gardens as he continued to speak.

'You were right and I still went storming off, determined to put things right.' He sighed ruefully. 'For all the good it did.'

A smile twitched on her lips before she turned to look at him again. 'You wouldn't be you if you didn't. I understand why you went, and I don't begrudge you the reasons.'

'You deserve to know the truth,' he said after a moment's thought, breaking an oppressive silence that had fallen between them. 'You deserve to know why I had to go after Morrigan.'

Elissa was unsure how she felt about finally learning the truth of Alistair's mysterious obsession, she understood there were things he could not tell her and she did not resent him for it. But she could not deny that she had wondered what drove her otherwise mild-mannered husband to such intensity. For those brief few days, she had not seen the man she had married, but the battled hardened Grey Warden who had defeated the Blight at a terrible cost. 'You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,' she replied.

'They created something horrific together,' said Alistair, getting up and moving to stand beside her, 'a child conceived using blood magic to contain the cleansed soul of the Archdemon.'

She gasped in horror at the news he had been keeping from her. 'A child with the soul of an old god,' she breathed.

'You know more about the Blight that you let on,' he said, smiling at her as he placed his hand to the small of her back.

'You are a Grey Warden who helped defeat the Blight, I thought it prudent to know a little,' she replied, leaning into him so that he could take her weight. 'How can I fault you for leaving me to put an end to that?'

'Only I didn't,' he said sadly, reaching up to caress her cheek as he stared out over the garden. 'I came back here before we caught up with her and she escaped. The Wardens that Howe sent after her allowed her to go, despite knowing what she had unleashed.'

She slid closer, wincing as she moved. 'It's not your fault,' she said. 'You didn't unleash this child on the world; you had no part in its making.'

'Not unless you count turning a blind eye,' he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. 'I suspected and I didn't want to know – what sort of man does that make me?'

They were in each other's arms now. 'One mistake doesn't colour your whole life,' said Elissa.

'It does when it is likely to be our child that will be cleaning up this mess I've let happen,' said Alistair, his hand moving to cover her belly that was just starting to expand to accommodate the growing babe.

'Then we'll teach them how to fix it,' she said, before pulling him close for a kiss.

The kiss was searing, their hands skimming over one another and Elissa moaned beneath Alistair's lips drawing forth his desire for her. Since finding out she was with child it had been over two months since they had last been together, sharing the unique feeling that only came when she was in his arms, straining against him as they both climbed towards a heady, intimate release. She wrapped her arms around his neck and broke their kisses long enough to whisper in his ear.

'Take me to our bed.'

Despite the heady lust that was plain in his eyes, he looked at her dubiously, clearly still worried about her delicate state in the wake of her ordeal. 'Are you sure?' he asked, his voice low and husky with pent up desire.

She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, her own eyes burning with desire. 'Bed. Now,' she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Alistair bent down and caught her behind the knees, lifting her into his arms. Their eyes met and she gently twisted the hair at the base of his skull around her fingers. 'Your desire is my command.'


	16. New Concerns

With First Day on the way and a repeat of the previous year's celebration planned, the city became flooded with the Lords and Ladies of Ferelden all hoping to show off their wealth and seeking to earn the favour of the monarchs. Amongst the nobles returning was Arl Eamon, along with Arlessa Isolde, who was now heavy with child and would be retiring almost immediately into confinement, as was Orlesian tradition during the final month of pregnancy. Isolde had insisted on taking the journey, as Elissa discovered when she had an afternoon tea with the Arlessa, as she did not want give birth to her next child amongst all the awful memories of Redcliffe Castle. Elissa could hardly blame her either; for the same reason she never wanted to be in the position that she would have to give birth to her child in Highever.

She smiled as she stroked her own rapidly expanding belly, her pregnancy was now evident and although she and Alistair had not formally announced she was with child, the city was abuzz with the news, grateful that their King and Queen would put a babe in the Royal Nursery so soon after their marriage and despite the terrible attack that had befallen the Queen at the hands of her brother. They planned to announce it at the First Day Ball, just as they had announced their betrothal a year earlier, but it was nothing more than a formality as several women of the Bannorn had expressed their congratulations to her when she joined the ladies for a salon. They were an eager group, desperate to know all the details that Elissa could offer, but the Queen would only confirm that Solana had announced the child would be born sometime after Summersday. The gentlemen of the court were even more inclined to gossip on the matter, with those who had children on the way or who had just been born were speculating which among them might receive the honour of having their child raised to Royal status through a future marriage. Irrespective of their gender, all the nobility was intrigued by the political significance of the birth of a royal heir and how it might alter their own political fortunes.

Yet despite that, Elissa felt serene with the knowledge she carried the future within her; she was fulfilling the duty she feared she might never be able to.

Once Arlessa Isolde took to her bed, an invitation for dinner arrived for Alistair and Elissa. Unable to ignore his former guardian's request, he arranged to see Eamon at the Arl's Denerim Estate without Elissa accompanying him. She had confessed she had no desire to see the man and he had excused her on the grounds that she was still recovered from her injuries, at least that is what Alistair would tell Eamon if he saw it as a snub that the Queen had not joined them. Instead, she turned her attention to the ball, this year looking forward to it, secure in the knowledge that no impending disasters hung over her head.

Alistair, however, was not having such an enjoyable time under the scrutiny of Eamon, who was more than determined to make his opinions known to the young King. He sat, leant back against the chair attempting to look interested as his former guardian picked holes in his policies, regaling him with the protocol on what happened in the past to holdings without heirs and expressing his opinion on the matter of Elissa administrating the Arling of Denerim.

'But this is not the past,' Alistair pointed out, sitting up straighter in his seat where he had slouched for the past hour as he had listened to Eamon. 'We aren't facing recovery from the occupation; at least the Orlesians needed to keep the lands fertile and trade stable. The darkspawn on the other hand, well, they don't care about trade or crops. The land itself remains infected with the Blight. It will be years before we can even begin using the land in the south for fallow much less crops.' He fixed Eamon with a hard look. 'Have you been out there Eamon? Really been out there and seen what Ferelden faces?' He was not surprised by the lack of an answer; the Arl had rarely left Redcliffe since his dismissal from court earlier in the year. 'The new measures have the support of the Queen and the two Teryns, the latter of whom I am entrusting to oversee the changes over the next year.'

Despite Alistair's tone, which most people took to mean that the subject was closed, Eamon ploughed on heedless of the thin line he was treading. 'With all due respect, the Teryns' aren't exactly the most experienced of political minds, Alistair.'

At that, Alistair raised his eyebrow. 'What precisely is you point, my Lord?'

Eamon noticed the change from the casual use of names to titles. 'That I am better placed to act as your Chancellor than either Teryn, Your Majesty.'

Alistair chuckled. 'And sabotage the policies you don't agree with?' asked Alistair wryly. Eamon had the decency to colour a little before Alistair continued. 'I understand you only have Ferelden's best interests at heart, Eamon, but what worked in the past is not going to work now. The people need security and aid to be better distributed. Having a few less Banns might just help with that.'

'Your father…'

Alistair glared at the Arl. 'I'm not my father,' he replied, his tone darkening as his patience on the subject began to wear thin. He sat back and regarded Eamon as he pondered his next words. 'Ferelden needs change to survive the aftermath of the Blight and to stop Orlais looking at us easy pickings. When I decided to take the Throne, I did it because I intended to rule and make things better. If Ferelden needed more of the same, you should have supported Anora.'

The Arl's expression changed at her name. 'And see the monster that even the Void would spit out sit beside her?' he asked the King. 'He murdered my son in cold blood. I'd have seen him dead before I would allow him to sit on the Throne.'

Alistair sat back in his chair in surprise at such an outburst from Eamon. 'I know that's why you don't think I can do this,' said Alistair quietly. 'You look at me and wonder why I didn't stop Aedan or do more so that it wasn't the only option available. Maker knows, it is one of the many things I wish I could have stopped happening then.'

He sighed heavily, remembering that terrible day when Aedan had drove his hunting knife into the child's chest and the horrific twitch of his lips as he did so. He'd been so happy to turn a blind eye in those first few months, telling himself he was seeing things or that somehow it was for the best. Time had forced him to confront the truth of the matter; that he had been making excuses for a monster.

'It's why you don't approve of Elissa, isn't it?' Alistair asked his former guardian. 'When she started giving her opinions on matters, you look at her and you see Aedan don't you?'

Eamon shifted uncomfortable in his seat. 'No,' he said, and then seeing Alistair's doubtful expression. 'I see the influence Aedan was able to exert over you. That, and it gives the Couslands an unprecedented amount of influence at court.'

Alistair shook his head. 'No, that was never your concern – you advised me to consider Elissa when Aedan was still Teryn. Now that would have been a lot of power; both Terynirs and a Queen?' Alistair lifted his eyebrows at the Arl. 'With that at their fingertips, had Fergus and Elissa been as ambitious as Aedan they could have easily done away with me.'

Eamon conceded to Alistair's remark before he sighed heavily. 'I just don't want to see another Cailan and Anora on the throne. That woman almost destroyed the Theirin name with her whispering.'

'Elissa isn't Aedan or Anora,' said Alistair. 'She is a kind, compassionate Queen who cares for her people. Her thoughts and opinions are carefully weighted when it comes to ruling the Kingdom.' Alistair sensed that Eamon knew this, it was why he suggested her in the first place, he just expected the shy Lady Cousland to be more biddable and malleable, having clearly forgotten that Bryce Cousland had trained her well for a life at court. 'I know we don't do things the way you envisaged them being done, but Ferelden needs change if it is to survive in the long term.'

-…-

First Day dawned cold and frosty but with the sun shining. As the previous year, the young eligible daughters of the Bannorn shut themselves away in their estates, primping and preening to ready themselves for the most important night on their social calendar. With the two Teryn's still unmarried and with no hint of either of them settling on a wife, the two men were likely to be subjected to scrutiny and a barrage of advances. Elissa knew that Fergus was facing tonight with great pain in his heart. So far as most were concerned, it was time for Fergus to stop mourning his dead wife and child as he had duties to attend to that required a new wife. However, Fergus had loved Oriana and Oren dearly and guilt lingered in his heart over the fact that he did not know of their demise for nearly year and when he did learn of it, it was to discover that the troops he was leading could have made it back to Highever to lend support to those left behind. Fergus believed that if he had just known, then he could have saved them all. Elissa doubted that; the attack had come as a complete surprise. She had subsequently learned that most of the castle's inhabitants had been murdered silently in their beds without warning or the chance to defend themselves.

She tried not to dwell on that terrible night. She was done with feeling hostage to events as she had no control over, even though she dearly wished that it had been her life instead of that of Oren that had been lost that night. Often, Elissa wished that she could provide a child that could be the heir to Highever and thus relieve her brother of the need for a new wife, but she knew that it was unlikely she would have a second child who could carry the Cousland name should Fergus not produce another child. Her one and only child was destined to be the future Monarch of Ferelden and carry on the illustrious Theirin name. At the thought she pressed her hand to her tummy, the small miracle of life within was still growing strongly despite all the odds.

She turned to consider her reflection, dressed in a dark red gown to compliment Alistair's attire for the ball. It still hadn't really sunk in that sometime after Summersday she would be a mother, with a precious child to nurture provided that she survived the birthing. She was well aware that it was a possibility that she might die, such was the risk all women took in bearing children, but she prayed that the Maker could not be cruel as to allow her to endure all she had only to die when she finally had so much to live for. Elissa wasn't sure why it was playing on her mind of late, perhaps it was her brush with her mortality coupled with the relative unknown of bringing a child into the world that had been conceived with a Grey Warden. Alistair had sent word to the nearest Wardens in Orlais, but their response had been typically enigmatic with a hint of 'you'll have to wait and see'. It wasn't exactly encouraging to the new parents-to-be, but at least they were in the position that they would have the finest midwives and mages on hand to assist should anything go wrong.

Once again Elissa checked herself in the mirror, glancing over her make-up and the adornments in her hair were all in place before going to find her husband. He had seemingly vanished into thin air, as he often did before big state affairs. She wondered if he did it because he thought he had half a chance of actually escaping his duties or if he was just giving himself the illusion of having control over these events. She suspected the latter. Besides, she thought he looked rather spectacular this time, once again donning the colours of his house, he seemed much more regal and authoritative than he had done a year ago. In the past year he had thrown off the last vestiges of his trepidation about being on the throne, seemingly helped by the removal of Eamon from the position of Chancellor and the support she leant him as his consort. He now projected himself as a man sure of his path and comfortable with the decisions he had made as King even when those decisions were unpalatable.

The thought made her smile as she had only ever wanted to see him come into his own and realise what a force for good he could be. Although she knew some doubt lingered in the aftermath of Aedan's death and Morrigan's escape, neither could ever find the words to adequately convey what they felt about the whole affair. Perhaps after their child was born, they would speak the events that had nearly tarnished their life together; but for now Aedan was gone, his body ash and unable to harm another living soul, while Morrigan was trapped beyond Alistair's reach.

Elissa found Alistair in his study poring over documents that had arrived from Orlais the previous day. They had received correspondence from the Empress of Orlais requesting a visit to the Kingdom to pay respect to them both and see the rebuilding herself. Both Alistair and Elissa were sceptical of her motivations, because while she had never committed an act of hostility against Ferelden during her reign and openly advocated peace between them, neither the King nor Queen of Ferelden could see a valid reason why Célene would want to see the rebuilding herself. Equally, they were unsure if they could actually decline such a request without it being seen as a snub. They were on thin ice and they had to play their hand as well as possible to protect their Kingdom. Tensions would ride high were the Empress to cross the border with a battalion of Chevaliers on her heels in the name of protecting her, and it would only take a small misunderstanding to create a major incident.

She almost wished that Teryn Loghain had been spared Alistair's sword, as he was the only sure thing to dissuade the Orlesians from their inclination to visit. They were famously afraid of the now disgraced and late Teryn of Gwaren, the man who risen to general of the rebel armies commanded by King Maric that had driven Orlais from Ferelden. However, now it was left to Alistair to make the decision and together they were thinking of asking for Eamon's advice in spite of their reservations about his trustworthiness.

'Ready?' she asked lightly from the doorway.

He glanced at her, looking like he was about to answer her when he was struck dumb. Elissa smiled as she stepped into the room, closing the door before she walked to his side as she watched him compose himself to say something. No doubt it was supposed to be some witty rejoinder along the lines of him hating these things and couldn't they just stay up here in their quarters.

'As I'll ever be, I suppose,' he said instead, holding out his hand to her.

Elissa took it and allowed herself to be pulled in close. 'You enjoy this all really,' she said, smoothing down his doublet. 'Besides we get to watch Fergus and Teagan squirm under the scrutiny of every woman in the room.'

'You say that,' replied Alistair, 'but I have heard rumour that Teagan somewhat has his eye on one of the guests here tonight; a young lady whom Leliana and I helped escape Redcliffe.'

'Intriguing,' said Elissa, with a smile. 'Do tell?'

Alistair chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 'And here I thought the Queen of Ferelden was above idle gossip. Did you not tell me you had no care for who's sharing a bed with whom?'

She frowned at him, a playful expression of mock indignation, as she twisted a lock of his hair behind his ear through her fingers. 'I think it is beyond idle gossip when it is the King who brings up the matter.'

'Not necessarily, I'm a sucker for gossip,' he said, his tone belied by the mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes. 'The latest styles, who is the finest man in the tourney...' Elissa quirked an eyebrow at him. 'What? I've still got an image to uphold here, can't let the ladies of the court think I've grown slack just because I got married.' He winked at her.

Elissa giggled and rested her forehead on his shoulder. 'What am I to do with you, Alistair,' she said.

'Well, locking me in our chamber so that you might have your wicked way with me might be a good start,' he remarked saucily. 'Definitely beats going downstairs for whatever is waiting for us there.'

'You mean you don't like your legions of adoring fans?' she asked playful.

Alistair appeared to give her remark some serious thought. 'There could be benefits,' he said, 'but sadly, I find myself entranced by one woman alone.' He pulled away from her to smile at her. 'Come my love, lets us go down and then we'll see if we can escape early.'

Luck would be a fine chance, Elissa decided as they readied themselves to face the crowds downstairs.

-…-

Being five months pregnant was proving to be physically demanding on Elissa's petite frame. Since the ball on First Day, she had experienced a growth spurt that had left her achy and tired most of the time. Solana had assured her that this was all normal and Elissa had tried not to worry, but it was hard when she thought at the rate to which her body was changing. It didn't help that the bump was now large enough to start hindering her sleep. Still, there was one benefit she was enjoying immensely; her beloved husband spent every free moment doting on her in every possible way. He was quiet delightful as he helped her to arrange pillows beneath her growing belly to help her sleep or massaging her ankles after a busy day. It was rather an amusing to see him channel all the extra energy being a Grey Warden afforded him into being a doting husband and father-to-be and it left Elissa hopeful for their future. Together, they and their child would be happy and safe in this life.

As their wedding anniversary approached, they received news that the Arlessa of Redcliffe had finally gone into labour. It was a few weeks later than predicted as she should have been birthing the child shortly after First Day, but it was now approaching Wintersend. Unfortunately, the news was not as joyous as it could have been because the Arlessa was already experiencing complications.

Alistair had been in a meeting with Eamon when word arrived of the Arlessa's condition, and while the elder statesman did not seem overly concerned, Alistair could not help but be worried for Isolde. He had never imagined he would ever worry for the woman who had bullied him into the Chantry, but that was before he had been forced to watch her as her son died. There was a different side to Isolde after those days that, coupled with Elissa's condition, had him worried because any complication faced by Isolde could be faced by his beloved and he didn't think he could cope with the thought of coming close to losing her again.

'Do you not wish to return to check on your wife's condition?' Alistair asked his former guardian when Eamon attempted to continue the meeting as if nothing had happened at all.

Eamon shook his head gravely. 'It does not do to be involved in these matters, my boy,' he said sagely. 'It is best to leave it to the midwives. They know what they are doing.'

Alistair frowned, but did not pursue the matter with Eamon, instead he discreetly sent word to his wife asking her to check up on the situation at the Redcliffe Estate. The response to her enquires, which she delivered to Alistair while they had a private lunch together in their favourite solar, was not particularly encouraging.

'The midwives say the babe hasn't turned,' Elissa said, reading the hastily scrawled note. She swallowed hard, suddenly put off her lunch. 'My Grandmamma died because of the same thing in child birth and so did the babe.'

Opposite her, Alistair put down his knife and fork and pushed the plate away. From what he understood, his mother had died in the same way as well, leaving him alone with only Eamon acting as his guardian. Despite everything he felt for Isolde, he didn't want her to dying like that nor for the baby to die. 'Is there anything that can be done?'

'I've sent Solana to assist, but I doubt they will let her near the Arlessa, she is very adamant that no magic be used lest it 'infect' the child,' said Elissa sadly, putting the note down. 'Is Eamon still here?'

'He said he wasn't needed,' said Alistair, reaching over to take the note.

Alistair could tell by Elissa's expression that she very much disagreed with that assessment, and knowing what he did now, Alistair agreed with her. It left him pondering what had been in the note that Eamon had received and if he had known Isolde was in distress why had he not gone straight to her side. Alistair would never leave Elissa to face such a thing alone.

He sighed as he folded the note. 'All I can do is send him back to his wife,' he said a little despondently, watching Elissa give him a pointed look. 'I am not giving him a Royal Command to go home, Elissa, it completely undermines the point.'

'Technically, anything you say is a Royal Command,' she said, sighing. 'Just tell him to go home to his wife as she needs him.'

Alistair nodded sadly. 'What of the matter on the State visit?'

'We can do without Eamon,' she said.

Although her tone was sympathetic she was glad to get him out of the way again; the former statesman was already getting more than just his foot back in the door. Elissa was uncomfortable with him having such close contact with their affairs when he had all but admitted he would find ways to undermine them if he disagreed with their decisions. Alistair's steps in moving the country forward were working with the discontent was lessening in the country so it made her angry to think that Eamon wanted to destabilise everything just because things had been done differently in the past. She also knew that Eamon was chief among the Lords who hoped that a marriage alliance could be forged between his new child and theirs, something that Elissa was not happy about. The thought of Eamon whispering in Alistair's ear was bad enough, but in the ear of their child as well? It was intolerable to her.

Alistair seemed to understand the direction of her unspoken thoughts. 'I'll see to it that he finds his way home,' he said, rising from his seat and heading out the room, pausing only long enough to press a kiss to her hair.

After that, Elissa found that nothing could distract her from her worry. She had gone out to walk among her gardens, hoping to find solace in checking over her evergreens which were finally starting to flourish after their finicky first winter or picking out the dead heads from the rose bushes that would bloom around the time her own child would arrive. But the cold and worry finally drove her back to her warm chambers where she began pacing while her husband, who had given up on getting any work done, sat on the chaise longue pretending to read a book of some description.

She turned to look at him. 'Do you think Eamon went home?'

Alistair put the book down as Elissa joined him on the longue, leaning back into the pillows. 'I had Daniels escort him personally,' he replied.

'I'm sure our fine Captain wasn't at all put out about that abuse of power,' said Elissa wryly.

'I offered him an extra evening off and a barrel of ale,' said Alistair, pulling Elissa's feet up on to his lap where he began rubbing her tender joints.

Elissa couldn't help but chuckle; any other King would have just ordered the man to do it, but not Alistair; he always treated their staff as extended members of their family, ensuring they were all well treated and looked after. Once Elissa had recovered from her injuries, he had given the all the staff a raise which immediately put him in everyone's high esteem and if people went the extra mile for them, then they got a bit extra for their pains. Alistair had given Rhia some additional gold after the attack for getting help to Elissa as quickly as possible which the young woman used to buy some extra clothes for her niece with the cold months coming on the way.

There was a knock at the door, and the couple looked up, Elissa swinging her feet down and slipping them back in her day shoes. Solana entered and curtseyed to them both.

'The Arlessa appears to have enough strength in her to dismiss me from their estate,' said the mage sardonically.

Elissa frowned. 'I suppose it does not matter you are there at my request?'

'Neither the Arl or the Arlessa seemed to care about offending you, Your Majesty,' replied Solana. 'Despite repeating several times that I was there on your command, although Teryn Teagan was loathe to let me leave, but sadly it is the Arl's estate and not the Teryn's. He was most apologetic.'

'Teagan is a good man,' said Elissa, nodding her head. She had fully supported Teagan's accession to the role despite not having the right to the slightest bit of say in the matter at the time as it predated her betrothal to Alistair. 'Do not let it worry you, Solana, but do tell what was the latest?'

'They tried to turn the babe using conventional methods, but with the belly tightening there is not enough room to roll the child into the correct position,' explained Solana, looking frustrated at what she had witnessed. 'If those women knew their jobs, they would have known that the babe was the wrong way up weeks ago.'

'What is to happen now?' asked Alistair.

'The babe will have to be birthed in the position it is in,' Solana explained to the King. 'There is a risky procedure that could be tried, but it would likely kill the Arlessa as she refuses to have mages present. The only thing that can be done is pray, for I fear the babe is too big to the birthed this way.'

Elissa felt a shiver of fear run down her and her hand automatically went to her belly. Alistair covered her hand with his and they exchanged a look each trying to reassure the other. Solana smiled sympathetically at the couple, seeing them just as new, nervous parents in this moment.

'I will do everything in my power to ensure that the same thing does not happen to you, Elissa,' she said softly, having earned herself permission to call the Queen by her given name when the situation called for it, such was Elissa's trust in the mage.

The Queen nodded her head. 'Thank you, Solana,' she said, 'if you wouldn't mind?'

The dismissal was causal but obvious and Solana curtseyed once again. 'Of course, Your Majesties,' she said before leaving the room.

Alone once again, Elissa put her hand to her mouth and swallowed thickly. Alistair slid closer to her and pulled her into arms.

'It's okay,' he said in a soothing voice as he rubbed small circles on her back. 'You heard Solana.'

'I know, it's just, you are a Grey Warden as well, and they've done nothing to confirm what will happen during the birth, if there is anything we need to be wary off,' she replied, relaxing into him and wrapping an arm around his waist.

'I can send a message to Weisshaupt,' he offered, 'but I fear they will be just as unhelpful. Besides, I don't want to draw their attention to us.'

It was an unspoken agreement between the couple that they didn't quite trust the Grey Wardens and their motivations, particularly now that one of their own occupied the Throne. Their child might draw unwanted attention from other quarters and as her pregnancy had been progressing normally thus far, there was no reason to suggest there would be anything untoward in the future. Besides, they would have Solana on hand to assist them in any aspect of the pregnancy and birth that might arise. Elissa trusted Solana and that she would never do anything to put her in harm's way.

'I'm sorry, it's just with the Arlessa struggling, I don't want it to be me next,' she confessed.

He wished he could promise her that she would be safe, but for the power that his position as King gave him, not even he could command the Maker to deliver his wife and child safely through the rigors of the birthing. Instead he just held her close watching the flames die as they waited for more news.


	17. Growing Worries

The hour was late, but Alistair found he could not rest. He had dropped off to sleep on the chaise longue with Elissa still curled in his embrace, but he had been woken by some nightmare that left his head buzzing and the sensation of the Taint churning in his veins, leaving him feeling a little sick. Alistair rubbed his head; it had been months since he had felt the burn of the darkspawn venom in his body, his mostly peaceful existence gave him an escape for the nature he had once gladly embraced. Upon waking, and seeing the fire had died, Alistair had carefully moved Elissa, carrying her to the bed so she could sleep in a more comfortable position, before heading out to his study.

Such was his agitation that he could not focus on a single word of the carefully worded reply that he and Elissa had drafted in response to Celene's request for a visit. While not declining the visit, they had not acceded to it earlier, explaining that in light of the on-going instability in the wake of the Blight, they could not guarantee her safety and with Elissa now getting late into her pregnancy it would be unwise to schedule such an event before the Queen had given birth. The bottom line being - that Celene was more than welcome to make arrangements for the following year once he and his advisors had talked the Bannorn around into accepting the visit graciously. He sighed to himself, thinking that this year was already shaping up to being a busy one and they hadn't even got to the end of the first month.

A heavy knock at the door broke him from his despairing thoughts and he frowned. No one else was likely to be up at this hour. 'Come in,' he called, straightening up.

'Your Majesty,' said his Chamberlain, who was wearing his night clothes, 'His Grace, Teryn Guerrin.'

Teagan looked beyond tired, his eyes red and his expression that of a haunted man, not unlike the one Alistair had seen on Teagan's face when the full horror of what had happened in Redcliffe became apparent. The Teryn sank into one of the plush chairs on the other side of Alistair's desk, all protocol between the two men abandoned much to the horror of Thomas, who looked scandalised that Teagan did not greet his King correctly. Alistair rid the room of his infuriatingly proper servant with a pointed look.

Without speaking, for Alistair knew what it was Teagan was here to report on, Alistair walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured two very generous measures of Antivan brandy which had been gifted to him by some visiting ambassadors.

'My thanks,' said Teagan as he accepted the offering while Alistair settled into his seat.

'What news?' he asked quietly.

The Teryn took a fortifying gulp of the spirit, grimacing as the burning liquor slid down his throat. 'The Arlessa did not survive the birthing,' he said, taking another sip.

Alistair nodded his head, feeling the cold creep over his skin. 'And the babe?' he asked hesitantly, reading himself for the worst.

However, a faint smile appeared on Teagan's lips. 'She survives and was crying lustily when I left to come here.'

A dim feeling of relief suffused over him, grateful that it was not all bad news. Alistair did not know what he would have said or done had both the Arlessa and her daughter died. While he did not like the Arlessa, he never wished the woman dead particularly after what had happened in Redcliffe. He had hoped that a new child for couple would bring them some of the happiness that had been snatched away by Aedan's cruelty, but it seemed that the Maker had not been with the Arlessa this night.

'It all seemed so needless,' Teagan continued, the brief smile faded and his expression turning hollow. 'I told them to let Solana stay, not just because the Queen sent her but because she knows what she is doing, but Isolde refused to have the child touched by any sort of magic.' He shook his head. 'I've never heard anything like it, Alistair. The way she screamed…' He trailed off and looked out into the middle distance as he took another mouthful of the brandy. 'They say she was dead before they were able to birth the child.'

'Maker,' muttered Alistair, bowing his head in silent prayer for the Arlessa, asking that the Maker to watch over her in death.

'No one deserves to die like that.'

Alistair wholeheartedly believed that, he looked up at the other door to his study, the one that took him into his inner sanctum where his pregnant wife slept untroubled by the news he had just received. All he could do was pray that the same fate would not await her. He shook the thought from his head; they had Solana to care for Elissa and their babe and he knew that she would not fail them.

'And what of Eamon?' Alistair enquired when he had put his thoughts about Elissa aside.

Teagan shrugged his shoulders. 'The midwives would not let him see her, he just paced the room,' he said. 'I've never seen him like that. Connor's birth was not at all difficult I am led to believe. For now, all he can do is mourn his wife.'

'Of course,' Alistair replied, 'naturally. Is there anything we can do?'

'That is up to Eamon, of course,' said Teagan, finishing the dregs of his brandy. 'You must forgive me, I must return to the Estate. Someone will need to keep an eye on things while Eamon comes to terms with what has happened.'

Alistair nodded his head. 'Thank you for coming,' he said. 'It can't have been easy leaving Eamon like that.'

'No,' he replied, 'but I said I would bring word when I had it. I was surprised you were still up.'

Alistair chuckled humourlessly. 'More than enough going on to keep me up at the moment,' he said grimly. 'If you need anything, send word.'

'Of course. Thank you.' With a bow, Teagan took his leave.

The moment the door clicked shut Alistair slouched back into his chair, holding up the amber liquid. He took a deep breath in an attempt to drive out the thought that what happened to Isolde could conceivably happen to Elissa. The thought of her experiencing labour and all the pain of childbirth already weighed heavily on his mind as it was; she had already suffered a terrible ordeal and he was determined to remain by her side through this one, especially since he was partially responsible for it in the first place. The events of which he had learnt of today only strengthened his resolve, because should they be her last hours he was not going to leave her in any doubt about the depth of love and devotion he felt for her.

He knocked back the rest of the brandy, hoping that it would aid him in getting back off to sleep as they would now be busy in the morning. Before turning in, he tracked down his Chamberlain to ensure that all the arrangements were made to visit a household in mourning.

In the darkness of his bed chamber, Alistair could make out Elissa's curled up form on the bed where he had left her earlier. As he got into the bed beside, he sent a small prayer to the Maker, entreating him to show her the favour he had denied the Arlessa. Let her live, was all he thought. Let her live.

-…-

All Alistair could focus on was Elissa's horrified expression as he told her of the Arlessa's demise. Despite the usual feeling of ravenous hunger that assailed her of a morning, she pushed her plate away as her stomach churned with the news that Alistair relayed to her. She got to her feet and walked over to the window, rubbing her tummy as silence fell between them. Outside, it was dull and pale, the gardens empty of all colour after the winter snows just after First Day.

'Are we to visit the Arl today?' she asked quietly, gazing down at her green gown, knowing it would be inappropriate to convey her condolences in such attire.

'I've already made the arrangements,' said Alistair from where he still sat, eating his breakfast. Were he any other man, Elissa might have asked how he could stomach eating, but she knew well it would take more than death to quash his appetite; he was a Grey Warden after all and he had seen things far worse than this during the Blight. 'Thomas and Rhia have arranged for suitable clothing and the horses should be ready as soon as we are ready to leave.'

Elissa nodded. 'I should like to speak to Solana before we leave.'

'Of course,' Alistair replied. He had been expecting her to have questions for the mage, thus he had sent her a missive requesting that she be available to assist the Queen with any questions or concerns she might have after the way these events had transpired. 'Do you want me to come with you?'

'No,' she said, 'I think I want to speak to her alone.'

Alistair got to his feet and walked over to where she was stood. 'Okay,' he said quietly, pulling her close and brushing a kiss to her temple.

Two hours later, Elissa appeared at his side in a sober gown of black trimmed with red and her hair loose. He had tried not to worry about her since he had last seen her, but it was very likely that she had been deeply affected by the news of the Arlessa's death. In a bid to protect her from the worse of the worries she could create in her anxiety, he had not told her the worst of the details knowing that the death alone would play on her mind. He wanted her strong and confident for the coming months, and while he could never tell her she had nothing to fear, he could tell her that she had less to fear than most. He took her hand as she approached and led her down the palace steps to the carriage that awaited them.

Once the door closed he looked at her, the lines of worry on her young face a clear sign that she was letting her fears get the better of her. 'Did you see Solana?' he asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

'Yes,' she said sadly. 'She said just as she said last night, the child was too big to be birthed in the incorrect position.' She hung her head. 'Isolde must have been so scared.'

There was nothing to say to that, because Elissa was right, the Arlessa of Redcliffe would have likely been terrified. Instead, Alistair put his other hand on hers, holding her small delicate hand in both of his, trying not to think about how helpless he felt.

-…-

Arl Eamon's Redcliffe Estate was quiet and sombre as one would expect after the terrible series of events of the night before. They were greeted by Teagan, who at least looked like he had managed to get some sleep since seeing Alistair at the late hour the previous night. He was silent has he led the King and Queen through the silent castle coming to a halt at a large oak door.

'He is with his daughter,' said Teagan quietly before he opened the door and announced their arrival.

Eamon stood, hands behind his back gazing out over the garden, but he turned as the door clicked shut. 'Thank you for coming,' he said quietly.

'Eamon,' said Alistair, 'I am truly sorry for your loss.'

The older man nodded his head. 'Thank you, it is taking some time to accept what has happened,' he said in a tone that was almost devoid of emotion. 'On the one hand I have a beautiful daughter, but I must endure without my wife.'

Elissa let go of Alistair's hand and drifted over to the cradle in a darkened corner of the room. There lay a small child, her limbs bound in long lengths of material in a typical Orlesian fashion that Elissa had heard of and that Solana called ridiculously outdated. The babe was fast asleep, but she was a beautiful child with tufts of dark hair on her slightly misshapen head.

'Does she have a name?' Elissa enquired, looking over at the Arl.

'Rowan,' he said, 'we, that is to say Isolde and myself, decided if she were to be a girl we would honour my dear sister.'

Elissa nodded as she looked back at the child with a small smile playing over her lips. 'Another Rowan Guerrin,' she mused, 'I suppose that Ferelden had best watch out.'

A smile twitched on Eamon's lips. 'Aye, they had at that,' he agreed. 'Might I offer you some refreshment? It is likely the babe will sleep for some time yet.'

'We don't want to intrude,' said Alistair. 'I realise you must want some time to yourself.'

'It is quiet alright,' he replied. 'I confess I find myself needing distraction.'

To finally see Eamon as a man and not a political figurehead was an uncomfortable surprise for Elissa. For months she had fought against Eamon's influence and power, Elissa had forgotten that he, like herself and Alistair, was still just normal person who loved and lost as much as anyone else did. That thought shamed her deeply, because in her mind she had been planning to use the birth of this new child to find a way to keep Eamon out of Denerim for even longer. She had never foreseen this terrible turn of events. Admittedly she had wished no harm whatsoever on anyone; she had actually hoped that Eamon and Isolde would have been able to start healing after the death of Connor, but this day would now forever be tainted.

In the reception room, with Teagan joining them once again, the topic of conversation turned to the matter of Celene, but Elissa could not focus on the details as the three men went over what could be done to encourage the Bannorn to accept the visit in the near future.

There was a light tap on the door and a maid entered, curtseying deeply before the royal guests. 'Begging your pardon, my Lord, but the Lady Rowen has awoken.'

Eamon went to get to his feet, but Elissa spoke. 'If you still have business to discuss with His Grace and His Majesty I will happily keep the babe company. I fear I cannot concentrate on these matters after all that has transpired.'

The Arl gave her a scrutinising look before he nodded his head and looking at the maid. 'Please escort Her Majesty to the nursery.'

'Of course, my Lord,' replied the maid, curtseying deeply once again.

It was as she followed the maid that Elissa realised that the nursery, which she had noticed was beautifully decorated with no expense spared, was actually in a different part of the house to the private living quarters of the Arl. She frowned, because after giving it some thought themselves, she and Alistair had come to the decision that they were going to be parents as much of the time as they could manage. Alistair's own lonely upbringing as an orphaned bastard in this very household had left him with the desire to be a present and involved father regardless of the fact he was King. There would be no distant upbringings with an army of nannies, governesses, and tutors with their child seeing their parents for a meagre hour a day as happened in many noble households. It seemed that this was to be such a household.

There were two other women in the room when Elissa arrived. They paid no heed to the newcomers as they argued over rewrapping the babe in her swaddling; one was for wrapping the babe as per the late mistresses request, the other against it as it was not a common practice in Ferelden.

'My understanding is that it does nothing to aid the child's growth,' said Elissa when she had heard enough. 'In fact, the court mage insists it is an outdated practice that only the Orlesian's feel the need to partake in.'

The two women turned, their mouths open to no doubt tell Elissa to stay out of it, until, of course, they realised to whom they were speaking with. The oldest of the two women, who looked very much like the sort of woman who would be the nanny to such child cursed under her breath before dropping into a low curtsey.

'Your Majesty,' she said, 'I had no idea you would be interested in seeing the child.'

Elissa smiled warmly as the woman rose from the curtsey. 'Of course I should like to see the child,' she said. 'I was greatly upset that she was not awake earlier. Besides I am glad of the opportunity to be away from the gentlemen as the conversation has turned to the business of the realm and I find I cannot abide the topic while I get my head around the death of the Arlessa.'

'Aye, Your Majesty, t'was a terrible thing,' said the nanny. 'The poor mistress should not have died in such away and we were mightily lucky that we didn't pull the babe from her already dead. Might not have been so bad had the mage remained, Your Majesty, but the poor mistress insisted she be sent from the estate so that the little Lady Rowen not be touched by such magicks.'

Elissa pressed her lips together in a frown. 'Sadly, my good woman, what has happened is now passed. There is still a little joy to be found in Lady Rowen.'

'Of course, Your Majesty, and a mighty fine lass she already is.'

Elissa reached the cradle and peered down to the small child who was wearing a baby's frock and merrily kicking away. 'She seems perfectly happy without the swaddling I'd say,' she said. 'Might I hold her?'

'Certainly,' replied the nanny, 'but might I enquire as to whether you know how to hold a small babe?'

'Indeed I do, I held my late nephew when he was not an hour from his mother womb,' she said reaching in to pick up the small babe. 'You may return to your duties.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty,' said the nanny, 'and should you need any help, there are guards outside who'll send word. The little mistress should be content now she has had a feed.'

Elissa nodded as she adjusted her hold on the wee child. As the door clicked shut, she frowned as she looked at the small bundle who had gone very still and was gazing at her avidly. This poor little girl was going to be left with just those two women for company? The thought made her sick, and while there was nothing wrong with the nanny, nor the maid whom she argued with, it was Elissa firm belief that a child needed the love that only family could bring and that Eamon was far too traditionalist to adapt to the role of being a father who would be there for his child; had he been less distant then he might have noticed his son's affinity to magic and would have prevented the tragedy that had befallen them during the Blight.

The small babe lifted a hand towards Elissa's face and she chuckled sadly. 'You shouldn't get too used to me, most likely we shall not see too much of one another until you are grown and a woman of stature.'

But it didn't stop Elissa from sitting down in a rocking chair and singing a lullaby under her breath. How long she sat there, singing the old tunes she remembered her mother singing to her, Elissa did not know, it was only the clearing of a throat that made her stop singing and look around to see Eamon and Alistair looking at her from the doorway. Once again, Eamon seemed to be scrutinising her, as if he were surprised that she was capable of such human emotion. Or perhaps he had started realising that she was not an echo of her brother; Alistair had told her of the disturbing conversation they had before First Day. Behind him, Alistair watched on with an intense gaze that was immensely tender, taking in what would be his first glimpse of the maternal side that seemed to be ready to burst out of her.

'Arl Eamon,' she said, carefully getting to her feet as she realised the babe had fallen asleep in her arms. 'I must have lost track of the time. She is a most delightful child.'

A warm smile appeared on Eamon's lips as he offered to take the baby. 'Thank you, Your Majesty. It seems she was quiet content with you.'

Elissa put the child in his arms and watched the man's stern face transform as he loving cradled the baby. She stepped away, moving to stand beside her husband, who immediately took her hand. He squeezed her hand tightly before bring it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

'We shall take our leave, Eamon,' said Alistair. 'Should you need anything from us.'

'Thank you, Your Majesties,' he said without looking up, turning away at the same moment they turned to leave the room.

In the privacy of the hallway, Alistair pulled Elissa into his arms and looked down at her, his amber eyes sit intense. 'You are a beautiful woman, Elissa Theirin,' he said quietly before pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips.

'I fear it is not so,' she replied sadly as they began walking down the corridor to the entrance of the house. 'I wished that the child would give us an opportunity to rid ourselves of Eamon for a bit long and now that little girl has no mother.'

'That is not your fault, nor the result of any amount of wishing. I had hoped for the same thing as well,' he confessed.

-…-

It was a sad state of affairs, Elissa decided as she stood beside her husband as Isolde's pyre burned in the gardens of the Redcliffe Estate, that none of the nobility present barring Eamon and Teagan were particularly upset of the Arlessa's passing. They all put on a show of course, passing their condolences to Eamon and his new baby daughter, but once they had moved away from the mourning Arl, the topic of conversation reverted to the most political matter of them all; if the King and Queen had a son, did that mean that Lady Rowan was to be the child that would be raised to Royal status by way of marriage.

Elissa wanted to put them all in their places, remind them that a woman had died but they would likely laugh and say she had a bout of hysteria brought on by being with child. The truth was, the Arlessa had been universally disliked since Eamon had first presented her at the court of King Maric some twenty-five years earlier. It was not just because she was Orlesian that caused contention but also the fact that her father had been installed as Redcliffe's Arl when Rendorn Guerrin had joined the Rebel Queen's cause. Now she was gone, it was like the last bitter, tenuous link to the hated occupation died with her.

With heavy hearts, as they both shared a joint sense of guilt over the wish that the birth of Lady Rowan would rid them of Eamon for a time, Alistair and Elissa bade the Arl farewell when he left to complete his journey back to his Arling with Lady Rowan to inter the Arlessa's ashes in the vault of the Castle. However, with him gone back to Redcliffe, the pall of misery lifted off of the Palace as Elissa and Alistair reached their first wedding anniversary.

Alistair could not help the warm contented feeling that seemed to fill his whole body as he held her sleeping form. Their first year of marriage had been a turbulent one that he hoped he would never have to repeat. He stroked her arm and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, smiling when she mumbled to let her have five more minutes.

When she opened her eyes for the first time that morning he found himself gazing into her warm blue eyes, thinking of the first time he had woken up with her by his side. She had been nervous in the morning after their wedding day, conscious of the fact that not only had they not consummated their union, but also that the extent of her abuse had been laid bare before him. He could remember the all-consuming feeling he had felt as he had traced the thin white line down her back for the first time, stuck between wanting to drag the bastard who had done that to her out of the Fade and killing him again and healing her broken heart and mind.

In the end, when the time finally came for them to be together, it had been well worth waiting for and every night after it was savoured for the blessing that it was. He kissed her shoulder again and she stretched, finally beginning to wake.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sleepy. 'You are insistent this morning,' she said as she rolled over to face him.

He smiled, holding her close, his hand ghosting over her belly. The baby had been active of late and he still couldn't get over how wonderful it was to feel the push of the baby kicking under his palm. He still worried, fearful of what the future was to hold once she went into labour. But after all he had learnt over the past year, he had decided not to be resigned to any fate until the day arrived. He had her now, and he had this moment and he refused to allow future shadows taint it for either of them.

'I just wanted to see you,' he said softly. 'It's an important day for us.'

She smiled back at him, her eyes glinting with happiness at the reminder. 'So, we're staying here all day?' she asked, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him to lie back in the bed. 'I'm sure that was the plan.'

There was no response he could make other than to return her sweet passionate kisses with equal desire.


	18. A New Beginning

**So here it is, the final chapter; utter mixed feelings about this because this little world ended up enrapturing me a little bit. I'm very pleased to have reached the end of this tale, but so sad to say bye-bye to these two. **

**My first thanks goes to Darkly Tranquil for beta-ing most of this fic. My second thanks goes to every who has reviewed, followed and favourited the fic and come back and read it. I blame you all for causing this fic to explode and become so much more than I ever intended. That said, thank you all for the support and love you have shown this little piece. **

Alistair could safely say that over the course of the last nine months he had received a thorough education on matters relating to pregnancy. Having begun Elissa's pregnancy largely ignorant about its effects on a woman, he was now an expert in navigating his way around Elissa's wildly unpredictable moods and physical restrictions. She wasn't unbearable; she just veered violently between moments of absolute serenity and hysterical nervousness that could take a while to soothe. Elissa had never really gotten over the shocking circumstances of Isolde's death in child birth and as the time of her own birthing drew nearer those old fears resurfaced. It pained him that he could not tell her that everything would be alright, because he knew that there was a possibility that things might not be.

Although he made a point of not telling her, fear churned deep in his gut that she would be taken from him. His vow after the death of Isolde not to dwell on what happened was rapidly eroding in the face of his mounting anxiety, but he endured. Elissa needed him to be strong for her and he would not lose himself to his own hysteria. He tried to remember in his darkest moments that he had faced down the Archdemon and won, and if he had managed to hold it together in the days running up to that deadly final battle then he could do it now. But this was different; this was not war, this was his family.

He threw down his pen and leant back in his chair, his work a useless endeavour while his mind was in its current preoccupied state. Everything on his desk could wait for now, the nobility were not fall apart without him there to cater to whatever whims crossed their minds at any given time. The city had started to fill up over the course of Bloomingtide and with the Landsmeet postponed indefinitely until after Elissa had given birth, Alistair knew the reason they were all there was to be close at hand to see what the result of the royal birth would be. He sighed at the thought, not at all enjoying how his private life was currently the equivalent of a public show for all to comment upon.

Giving up on the notion to get any work done he retreated to his inner sanctum with a mind to while away some hours with Elissa. She had retired from public appearances with the birth predicted to be only a few short weeks away, but unlike Isolde, Elissa was not going into a full confinement; her mother had not done so during either of her pregnancies, and Elissa intended to deliver the same way her mother had. To pass the time, she mostly spent her hours knitting or sewing, and if she had the energy she could be found in the gardens. Due to the inclement weather than had lingered over Denerim for the last couple of days, Elissa was relaxing in their private solar. . He heard the soft click of her knitting needles before he pushed the door open.

He entered the room quietly and when she heard the door click shut, Elissa looked up and smiled. It was a surprisingly bright smile considering that she appeared to have been crying. She would have been the picture of serenity were it not for the tell-tale red rings around her eyes. 'I was thinking about my mother and father,' she said as he sat down.

Alistair felt a surge of sympathy for her. 'They would be very proud of you,' he said sincerely.

'I swear you and Fergus take turns to remind me of that,' she said, putting her knitting down. 'It's just, they always wanted me to get married and have children of my own. My mother in particular seemed to be on a never ending quest for more grandchildren.'

He took her hand, because there wasn't really much he could say. Elissa had been brought up in a very loving family; both the remaining Cousland siblings exhibited the hallmarks well-loved children which Alistair knew he had lacked in his youth. Looking at Elissa now, he had no doubt she was going to make a wonderful mother when the time came in a few short weeks.

'I wish she was here, Alistair, to talk to and to ask all these silly questions that keep bubbling up in me,' she continued. 'As wonderful as Solana is, she has never actually had a child of her own and neither has Rhia. I can't really talk to the ladies at court and you,' she said, smiling at him, 'well I can't ask you either.'

Alistair chuckled. 'I am a poor substitute,' he agreed. 'Not least of all because until I had met you, I was certain babies came from the Fade. That's what they teach us in the Chantry, you know.'

'You've said before,' Elissa replied, putting her feet in his lap and looking expectantly at him.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. 'So,' he said, drawing out the word as he relived the tension in her feet. 'Do I get nine months of foot rubs after this?'

'Certainly, if you get pregnant,' she replied, lying back into the cushions. 'Do you ever wonder what it was like for your mother?'

Alistair shrugged. 'I guess I used to wonder,' he said, 'but I don't have any link to her. Eamon has never told me about her and...well, you know about Goldanna and how well that turned out. Meeting her really changed my view on what family was.'

'From what Leliana told me, I'm surprised this half-sister hasn't turned up here wanting more gold,' she said as he shifted a little uncomfortably, adjusting her feet in his lap. 'What?'

'I send her stipend, some gold; it's more for the children,' he said looking away. 'I can't bear the thought of them cooped up with her without anything and it stops her from causing trouble.'

Elissa huffed out a chuckle. 'You are full of surprises, do you know that?'

'You're not… I dunno… going to give me the whole 'she doesn't deserve it' speech?' he asked her cautiously.

'Why would I?' she asked, relaxing back into the cushions as Alistair continued to work on her aching feet, 'it's your decision. You know what she is, and if you are happy to do as you are doing then who am I to argue. Besides, it keeps her off our doorstep.'

'I knew you would see the benefits of such a policy,' he said, quirking a smile at her and feeling a weight lift from his shoulders when she laughed.

-…-

Elissa finally went into labour two days before Summersday. She had been restless for days with what Solana had called practice contractions, yet she somehow managed to remain calm while Alistair was moved to all sorts of worry. Most worrying of all was that by his calculations, the labour was a week or so early, but Solana had explained to him that it was not an exact science. The mage had tried to explain how she had calculated it, but he had gotten lost to the point that Solana smiled and just said there was a several week space when the baby could come, and in Elissa's case, she was pretty much on time. Despite protests from his Chamberlain, Alistair left the running of court affairs with Thomas, advising him to seek advice from the two Teryns, as he would be unavailable until the baby had been born. Several times, he was advised by men of the court not to get involved with the birth as it was a messy process and would put him off his wife for the rest of his life, but he would not hear of it.

When he entered their bedchamber, Elissa was pacing up and down the room with Rhia supporting her when a contraction took hold of her body. She moaned aloud, grabbing onto the armoire for support as Rhia encouraged her with the breathing exercises that Solana had taught her. Alistair watched his wife mimic her maid, her face contorting painfully as she worked through the agonising process that was now going on in her body.

'Shouldn't she be lying on the bed?' Alistair asked Solana, deciding not to intervene until this current wave of pain had faded.

'Absolutely not,' replied the mage, 'it just slows everything down. The birthing with progress much faster if we keep her moving for as long as possible; it stimulates the contractions.'

Alistair gave her a dubious nod, but decided to bow to her greater knowledge on such things all the same. The current wave of contractions over, Elissa looked up and locked her gaze on Alistair, her lips rising into a nervous smile to see him there; it was so like Alistair to cast aside convention to be by her side. 'Alistair,' she said, holding out a hand for him.

Without a word, he went to her, taking over from Rhia who seemed to just melt into the background. He wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her tremble against him, no doubt already overwhelmed by the exertion. Tenderly, he pushed back a lock of hair and met her gaze. 'It's okay, my love,' he said, kissing her brow, 'everything is going to be okay.'

Elissa nodded, burying her head into his neck. 'I'm scared,' she whispered.

'I know,' he said, rubbing soothing circles on the bottom of her back, 'but I'm not going anywhere.' He drew back from her. 'Solana says you must keep walking to help you and I'm at loath to ignore her…' he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, 'she looks like she could turn me into a frog at any moment. You don't want our baby to have a frog for a father, do you?'

Elissa glanced up at him and, despite the pain and fear she felt, when she saw the lopsided grin she loved so much, she couldn't help but laugh as he took her weight and began to guide her around the room.

-…-

Seeing Elissa in so much pain but not being able to help her was complete and utter torment. She was on the bed now, surrounded by sheets, towels and blankets as she struggled to keep going. Solana had declared that the Queen was in the final stages now and that the babe would be born any time now, but Elissa was struggling to hold on through the pain, crying out for it to be over. All Alistair was supposed to do was to keep her calm enough to focus while encouraging her as each contraction consumed her, but even he was struggling. He knew his nerves were starting to fray at the sight of her like this, his mind wheeling around to the fact over and over again that this was his fault, he had done this to her. As time went on, and the minutes seemed to stretch on and on, more pain exploded from her and the tighter she squeezed his hand to the point that she actually managed to hurt him. Elissa was such a petite woman, with small delicate hands, that he had never imagined that she could actually muster enough strength to almost crack his fingers. When she saw him massage his hand with a grimace, Elissa actually managed to chuckle and apologise, asking him if he was okay, which made him laugh in return. It was actually nice to experience this brief moment between them in the midst of this ordeal and it gave him a brief glimmer of hope that his wife would make it through this.

At the other end of the bed, Solana continued to check on Elissa's progress; the Maker only knew what the mage was doing down there, all Alistair knew was he did not want to know. As Elissa took deep breaths after her last contraction, Solana nodded sagely to herself before looking up at Elissa.

'It's time,' she declared, 'with the next contraction, I want you to push downwards, do you understand, Elissa?'

She nodded frantically, adjusting her position as best she could so she could brace herself against the bed while Solana spoke to Alistair.

'Keep her breathing,' explained Solana, 'she can do this; there are no complications so far as I can tell.'

Alistair nodded and squeezed the tops of Elissa's arms. 'You can do this,' he said, stroking her arm and lacing his fingers through hers. 'I've got you,' he said, pressing a kiss to the bottom of her neck.

Elissa squeezed his hand as the next contraction started to build. 'What if I break your fingers?' she asked, glancing down at the entwined fingers.

'Then I'll be terribly impressed that you've broken through all my Grey Warden strength,' he replied jovially. 'Don't worry, my love, do whatever you need.'

Elissa nodded as the pain became unbearable and she steeled herself to do as Solana had instructed. She had wanted to push since she had first gotten on the bed but Solana had forbidden it, telling her that she wasn't ready yet and she would do herself great harm. Terrified of suffering the same fate of Isolde, Elissa had heeded her warning and had done her best not to push despite every nerve in her body telling her otherwise. She had focussed, remembering that Solana was here to see her through the birth to the other end, and that thought had given her the strength to endure. She pushed down as hard as she could, her groan becoming a scream as she felt the child move. She clenched Alistair's hand so hard that she was sure she heard a crack, but she couldn't be sure and she didn't ask him as the contraction faded leaving behind a new sort of pain.

At the end of the bed, Solana nodded. 'Good,' she said, 'and with the next one, push again.'

Another contraction followed swiftly with more pain, each followed by further encouragement to keep going, she was nearly there. It went on in a continuous cycle for what seemed like an eternity with all the voices of encouragement sliding away into nothing as her body took over for one last push; her scream of pain turned to one of relief as her child slipped free of her body.

Exhausted and free of the pain at last, she collapsed back into Alistair, who caught her in his arms kissing every part of her he could reach. She panted heavily from the exertion as a lusty cry of a new born babe filled the room. Elissa turned and nuzzled into his chest, grateful he was there.

'You did it,' he whispered in awe as Solana began cleaning the baby. 'By the Maker, Elissa, you did it.'

She smiled; overwhelmed that she had done it. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she looked up into Alistair's astounded eyes. 'You stayed.'

He wiped the tears from her eyes, uncaring that his eyes also swam with tears. 'Of course I stayed,' he whispered tenderly. He cupped her cheek, gently caressing it as he gazed back at her before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

They were so wrapped up in the sweet moment that neither of them noticed Solana walk around to their side holding the small bundle that had just been crying just moments before. She had not intruded on their intimate moment, but it was now time to introduce them to their baby. 'Alistair, Elissa,' she said softly, 'your son.'

Elissa held out her arms for the small bundle and Solana carefully placed the wrapped Prince in her mother's arms before withdrawing to begin cleaning up now the birth was done. Elissa looked down at the small babe, her eyes glued to the beautiful child in her arms; his muddy brown eyes were wide open and he was gazing avidly back at her. From behind her, Alistair reached over and with infinite gentleness, he stroked his son's cheek with his finger.

'He's beautiful,' said Alistair, his voice catching from all the emotions he currently felt.

Elissa smiled, relaxing back into her husband. 'He is,' she said, her voice awestruck as she enjoyed this perfect moment as she held their child and Alistair held her. For them, it was a true start to a new beginning.

-…-

A bright morning dawned over Denerim, the scent of roses wafting on the breeze from the Palace gardens into the solar where Alistair dozed after a hectic night. He stretched, but found he didn't really have the room for his considerable frame as he realised he had fallen asleep on the sofa after the long night with Elissa. He had come out here to give her some time to clean up and get settled after the birthing and had clearly fallen asleep, his own exhaustion getting the better of him now that it was all over. All of the worry and fear seeped from him as he held his wife and son. He remained lying down as he digested the news that made him feel just a little bit giddy; he was a father. He was a father.

He sat up hastily, suddenly filled with the desire to be with the two most precious people in his life again. In their bedchamber, Elissa was seated in the bed, propped up against several cushions with the babe to her breast. She looked clean and refreshed, with her hair hanging in loose waves as she hummed a lullaby under her breath. Never before had he seen her so contented and happy. It was as if the birth of their son had finally exorcised the last of the demons of her past.

She looked up when she heard the door click shut and she smiled widely at him.

'He just woke up,' Elissa said softly.

Alistair walked over to the bed and slid on beside her, carefully wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 'How are you?' he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with his other hand.

Elissa leant into him as much as her current position would allow. 'Tired,' she said with a soft sigh, 'and sore, but mostly tired.' She looked back down at her son. 'I can't believe he's actually here.'

Alistair reached over and stroked the dark tuft of hair on the back of his son's head and smiled to himself. He could scarcely believe it either; a part of him had been so sure that one or both of them would have been taken from him. Perhaps as recompense for allowing Aedan commit his atrocities, but no, they were both whole and fine. Admittedly, Elissa looked pale and tired, but it was to be expected after her the hours of endurance she had been through. How she had managed to keep going as her strength had visibly worn down, he did not know, but he doubted he could have managed it.

'What are we going to call him?' she asked quietly. 'He needs a name.'

They had yet to really settle upon anything, although they had crossed plenty of suggestions off their list of potential names, including Duncan, much to Alistair's chagrin. His Queen had reminded him that it would not be politically prudent to prominently reaffirm his ties to the Grey Wardens by naming their son after his mentor who had the dubious honour of being temporarily blamed for the death of King Cailan. He had reluctantly conceded to her reasoning on the matter and looking at the boy in Elissa's arms, he realised it was time to let go of that little bit of his past and think about the future they currently held. As well as Duncan, they had also crossed off nearly every name from the long line of Theirin Kings and Cousland Teryns, for which they were both grateful, as neither of them truly wanted to burden their new born son any more than his lineage already would. Many of the names in the list weren't particularly practical in any case and as he scoured his family tree he found himself grateful to have a relatively normal name as oppose to something along the lines of Weylan. To his bemusement, that particular name had come up no less than four times in the direct line. But there was one name that had caught his attention and for the life of him, he could not remember from where it had come from, but the meaning of the name really meant something when he considered his and Elissa's personal circumstance.

Their child was a gift; he had seen it through impossible odds just to be conceived in the first place, much less arrive safely in their arms after Elissa's near fatal attack.

'Eóin?' he suggested quietly.

Elissa turned to look at him, her brow puckered in a small, thoughtful frown. 'A gracious gift from the gods,' she muttered, reciting the name's meaning. She looked at their son who had stopped feeding was now dozing in her embrace. 'Do you think so?'

'Yes,' Alistair replied affectionately as Elissa passed the baby to him. 'He made it through impossible odds to get here.'

Alistair adjusted his positing so that he could hold his son securely. It was only the second time he had held him and he couldn't help but feel bigger and clumsier than usual as he considered the small child compared to him. 'So?' he asked his wife, giving her a lopsided grin.

Elissa cocked her head to the side as she mulled over the name. 'He is a gift,' she mused more to herself than to Alistair as she contemplated the name with their son's title of Prince and his future title of King.

'It's no worse than Weylan,' he reminded her, smirking slightly.

At that reminder, Elissa smiled and laughed. 'It's far better actually,' she replied. 'My mother's great uncle was called Eóin,' she recalled quietly. 'He was killed in battle during the occupation.' She turned her attention back to the moment at hand. 'Eóin Theirin,' she repeated before she nodded her head with a beaming smile. 'Yes.'

'Yes?'

'Most certainly,' she affirmed, moving closer to her family, leaning into Alistair's side to look at Eóin, wondering if she would ever be able to stop looking at him.

-…-

Thomas, the Chamberlain of Denerim's Palace cleared his throat to silence the buzz of conversation in the Throne Room. 'His Majesty, the King,' he announced in a resonant voice.

It had not taken long for the news to travel that a Prince had been born in the night and the nobles had gathered to hear the formal announcement from the King. Right up until Thomas had spoken, the Throne Room had been abuzz as the many voices of the Bannorn speculated on every detail, their primary concern being who their future King would be betrothed to, with possibilities of a name ranking a close second in discussion.

The doors swung open and Alistair walked the length of the Throne Room barely noticing his vassals dropping to one knee in deference to him. The past year of his reign had changed many of the opinions that had been floating around after him and he was no longer an untested boy with an upbringing unsuitable to make a King. Many of the people present actually believed that their King was capable of the position bestowed on him despite the unusual circumstances of his ascension. Such was his joviality, he practically bounced up on the dais where the throne sat, but remained standing as the nobility go to their feet.

He looked around at the gathered nobles, a smile twitching on his lips. 'My Lords and Ladies,' he announced, 'it is my great pleasure to announce that Her Majesty, Queen Elissa has given birth to a healthy Prince in the early hours of the morning. The midwives and our court mage have all assured me that both the Queen and your new Prince are doing well following the birth and should be fit to make an appearance in the coming days.'

Amid the storm of applause was a collective sigh of relief; an heir had been born after far too many years of an empty cradle in Denerim Palace. If one counted Alistair's own birth, it had been nearly twenty three years since a child of notable enough Royal blood had been born. With the birth, at this moment, the prospect of another civil war a few years down the line had been averted, particularly with a child of such notable lineage; no one in their right mind would seriously considering challenging the claim of a child born of Theirin and Cousland blood.

Teryn Cousland stepped forward and went to one knee. 'Might I offer my congratulations to Your Majesties on this momentous occasion,' he called over the din of applause.

Alistair inclined his head to the Teryn, accepting his thanks before thanking the rest of the nobles ending the brief audience. He motioned for the two Teryns to follow him. The two men, his most trusted advisors and the nearest thing he had to family, fell into step behind him as they exited the Throne Room to much applause and cheering.

'Well, that should keep them quiet for a while,' Alistair remarked wryly once the doors were shut behind them. He chuckled, shaking his head before beaming widely at the two men with him. 'She did it,' he enthused, 'she's amazing.'

Fergus smiled warmly at his younger brother in law. 'I take it my sister is well.'

Alistair nodded. 'She was sleeping when I left her, the birthing has left her exhausting, as is to be expected and the nurse is with the baby.'

'That is good news,' said Fergus, grinning as he had been worried for his sister, 'even in the best of hands, nothing is ever assured.'

'Indeed it is not,' agreed Teagan sadly. 'But now is not the time to reflect on such things. Alistair, I hope that your child bring you both many years of happiness.'

'Thank you,' Alistair replied. 'Now, if you will both excuse me, I believe I have found myself with other duties to attend to. Fergus, I'll send word when Elissa wakes, I know she wishes to share this with you.'

'Of course,' replied Fergus, 'and I'll be glad to share it with her.'

'Then I shall see you later,' he said with a quick smile before he turned and headed back into the depths of the Palace.

-…-

The Queen was sleeping. She looked perfect against the pale pillows and sheets of their bed, her ebony hair had been braided out of the way of her face but for a few locks that had escaped, framing her face. She looked so peaceful and contented as she breathed slowly. Solana had assured Alistair that now the birthing was over, there should be nothing to worry about, but the mage was not going anywhere anyway so should any unexpected problems arise, she would be there to help. Solana had more than earned her place as the court mage and Alistair would never hear of her being returned to the Circle.

His thoughts went back to Elissa, a smile plastered on his face like some grinning idiot – it wasn't a fact too far from the truth right now. He was utterly overwhelmed by everything; the depth and strength of love he currently felt for Elissa had welled within him and no woman would ever be as perfect as she was. Right now, he could not wait until she woke again so that he could share everything he was feeling with her again.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a soft gurgling noise he heard from the cradle. Alistair walked over and peered in, looking down at the small boy who was occupying as much of his heart as his wife was. Never before had he looked at one being and been overwhelmed by so much love and emotion. Again the thought rose that he was a father and he was most determined not to make the mistakes of his own father, who had been a distant figure in the back of his mind. His father was still a source of deeply conflicting emotions in his mind, and Alistair couldn't help but wonder how Maric Theirin had felt when he had learnt of the birth of the bastard boy who now occupied the throne and had provided the heir that would continue the Theirin name.

He shook that train of thought from his mind, not wishing to let the mistakes of his father taint these very special moments with his son. Eóin had kicked off the sheet he had been wrapped in and was still kicking out in a jerky manner with his face screwed up as if he were about to start crying. Hastily, Alistair reached in and wrapped him back up before picking him up, carefully supporting his head.

'Hey, none of that, your mama is having a well-deserved rest,' he said in a hushed, soothing voice as he cuddled the small boy to his chest.

Looking over at the bed, he noted that he hadn't woken Elissa, so he proceeded to sneak out of the bedroom into the adjoining salon. He sat down on their chaise longue and looked down at the small bundle in his arms. Right now, messengers were being sent not just out into the Bannorn, but to the other rulers of Thedas to announce the joyous arrival of child who would continue the Theirin line. To the people of Ferelden, this boy was their next King, but to Alistair he represented that for the first time in his life he really was part of a real family. Thus far his experiences of family had not been the nicest of memories; he bore no real love for his dead parents, although the memory of his mother always moved something within him, and the less said about Goldanna the better.

Alistair was drawn from his thoughts by Eóin's little hand catching hold of his finger. He looked down to see tiny fingers clench his in a surprising display of strength for one so small. He silently vowed there and then that his son, and any other child they had, no matter how unlikely, would never feel as he did until he found Elissa; unloved and unwanted by his family.

Two years ago, when the smoke had cleared and the sun rose over Denerim after the battle with the Archdemon, Alistair had believed it was a new start, but right now, this was the real new start with the brightest horizon he had ever seen. One day, he knew, the storm clouds would gather, in all likelihood they were probably brewing even now, but right now, at this moment, Alistair knew nothing but peace.


End file.
